


A Brand New Canvas

by aria_vitali



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Amnesia, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Brother-Sister Relationships, Celebrations, Character Development, Character Study, Companions, Comrades in Arms, Dancer Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dark Knight Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Despair, Developing Relationship, Dragoon Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Male-Female Friendship, Memory Loss, Multi-Classed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Possible Character Death, Protectiveness, Relationship(s), Romance, Self-Discovery, Self-Reflection, Self-Sacrifice, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, White Mage Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aria_vitali/pseuds/aria_vitali
Summary: In a world in which one's perception is shaded in neutrality, color only comes once an individual meets their soulmate. Aymeric has wanted for nothing more while Aria has lived with much less. With them so close and yet so far, how could they possibly paint their canvas with anything other than what they have ever known?Better yet, is that even what they wish for?
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Original Character(s), Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	1. From Up High

**Author's Note:**

> My first multi-chaptered fanfic story. I'll be updating at least once a week. Enjoy :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A respected leader, a stout commander, searching for nothing more than that to which everyone deserves. Slowly. Surely.

Aymeric de Borel. Lord commander of Ishgard's Temple Knights. Lord Speaker of the House of Lords. Viscount of House Borel.

Titles and tributes all suited for a man of his status.

The Elezen had a demeanor that exerted an aura of command. A certain degree of charisma that simply begs for those that gaze towards him to want to pledge their loyalty to the man then and there. For those that already have, it only maintains their unwavering faith in him - in the good that he is doing for their nation. His armored figure strides across the Pillars towards Foundation with ease and confidence. Despite a completed set of the finest steel, Aymeric could move swiftly and silently to his fellow knight's defense or jump in ambush against an enemy.

Yet, today proffered a different kind of work. For all that his training as a Temple Knight did for him, his duties called for responsibilities political in nature. Make no mistake, if there was a call to battle as a threat loomed over his precious home, he would be among the first to stand at the vanguard. However, the simple battle against _paperwork_ demands just as much energy albeit more of the mental kind. His patience can certainly attest to this as his sheer perseverance is displayed amidst the meetings between lord and lady representatives of their republic.

At least today he would be allowed solace in the privacy of his office.

The moment that Aymeric stepped through the Congregation of Knights Most Holy, his eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. Finding what he was looking for, the lord commander stepped towards the war table in the center of the room and faced a female Hyuran paladin. A former Garlean that denounced her past to pursue what she believed in, leading her to serve as his right hand and second-in-command.

"Good morrow, my lord," Lucia goe Junius greeted.  
Aymeric nodded his head. "Good morrow, Lucia. How fares you?"  
"None worse for wear, my lord," she answered, then lifted a set of parchment paper that had been sitting along the edge of the mahogany surface. "However _this_ will most likely test both of our sanities this day."

Aymeric groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, brushing back bangs that begun tickling his face. Lucia smiled sympathetically at his expression, knowing full well how her lord's daily affairs usually go. First, she would escort him to the Seat of the Lord Commander. Then, she would place a handful of documents at his desk so he may begin scouring through them. Throughout the day, she would create a stack of paper that only continues to grow at the corner within his arm's reach. 

In between, he would conduct appointments with differing lords - who were there to either report on the status of their designated encampments or try to pick a fight - and depending on their reaction, she would have the opportunity to vent a little as she escorts them out. Nonetheless, it all ends the same: with her kicking Aymeric out of his office when the sun had set far below the horizon.

This was Aymeric de Borel, vast and all-encompassing.

All the meanwhile, Aymeric began making his way towards his office, nodding towards knights that were saluting him as he passed by. The path was all too familiar, a scene he could see even in his dreams.

_Even if they were devoid of color._

As soon as her lord was seated, Lucia didn't waste any time in placing the paperwork on his desk in front of her. Amidst some parchment, there were wax-sealed letters - some he recognized bearing the insignia of the High Houses and others of the smaller vassal families in service to them. Raising a brow, the lord commander retrieved the letter opener from his drawer to unveil its contents and upon laying his eyes on the script, he wanted nothing more than to throw them in the Congregation's hearth.

"Is aught amiss, my lord?" Lucia asked with a knowing grin.  
Aymeric huffed. "Marriage proposals. One of which is from House Haillenarte."  
"Ah, a High House," Lucia answered. "'Twould seem you cannot evade this one, Ser Aymeric. Mayhap you would be fortunate to find your partner amidst this batch."

Aymeric only answered with noncommittal hum as he frowned and moved on to the next letter. It was a known fact, a constant in this world that cannot be avoided. The fact being that one's perception of their surroundings remain only shades of black, white and grey until they find their partner for life. Their 'soulmate', for lack of a better term.

He had read and heard stories of couples that shared their experience with love. In some, the tale was weaved as a simple chance encounter in the middle of a marketplace. Others regale couples who were able to see color all their life because their soulmate was their childhood friend. Then, there were some that lived their entire lives having accepted the world as it was from birth, dying without having seen any 'color' that is described by those around them.

Aymeric, of course, didn't wish for that.

Not only was it his duty so that he would be able to sire the next generation, but he _yearned_ for love. It was a desire that burned softly in the back of his mind and no matter how many documents he may drown himself in, his thoughts would always wander to it. Sure, he has had relations intimate in nature - both emotional and physical - here and there, but those ended with him being played for a fool or had existed only for appearance's sake.

That wasn't what he wanted.

Aymeric wanted to feel himself fall without any intent of standing back up, to have his heart ripe to burst as it pounded against his breast at the sight of his beloved, to be lulled into a trance with the soft melody of their voice when he would speak to them. To see their beloved turn into his betrothed and wed them at the altar, their attire portraying them as if they were one of Halone's own that had descended from the heavens just to be his. Bring them to bed with the intention of bearing children and consummating their marriage-

"My lord," Lucia's voice called out to him.

Aymeric jolted from his seat and shifted his attention back towards his second-in-command. Although her face was curled ever so slightly, she maintained nothing but utmost patience for him. When he collected his senses, the lord commander noticed she was stationed at the door, holding it open as an unfamiliar noble was standing in wait with a raised brow. With a sigh, Aymeric shook his head and pushed the thought as far into the back of his mind as he possibly could. At least, for now.

  
After all, there's no rest for the righteous that lead from up high.


	2. Live to Serve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A servant, a comrade, existing like a song flowing in the wind. One-track mind and a simple desire, merging together in a sea of inner chaos.

_Be present, yet unobtrusive. Predict, but never presume. Serve, but never be served._

The words Firmien had drilled into Aria's very being echoed in her mind as she leaned against the stone wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her head hung ever so slightly, eyes trained on a particular lord with short, ruffled hair and carrying a kite shield with the insignia of one of the four High Houses. 

The presiding lord of Camp Dragonhead and her master, Haurchefant Greystone.

From the corner of her eyes, she was able to see Yaelle and Corentiaux hovering, watching the lord worriedly as he sat at his desk. Aria was not immune to falling into such a state, but she also knew how wonderfully _whimsical_ he can be when he was of the right mood. In such situations, she would simply ignore him and his antics, refusing to be caught in the middle of his theatrics as he attempts to drag everyone in.

That is why, when Lord Haurchefant removes himself from his desk to approach her, Aria did not dare offer her initial attention.

“Come now, old friend, for how long do you insist on feigning ignorance?” she heard him call out to her.

Without meeting his eyes, she replied.

“For as long as you plan on prolonging our return to Fortemps manor, my lord,” Aria answered in monotone. “Lord Edmont had explicitly stated that we are to return no more than two bells after the sun has set for dinner. It has been one already.”

Aria pressed her lips into a tight line as her gaze darted anywhere but his face. She knew the moment that his eyes were to meet hers in a manner akin to a pup, she would cave and allow the man to do as he pleased. She couldn’t afford that.

Lord Edmont had _personally_ approached her for this request, after all.

Then, there was a crash heard at the entrance of the building and a familiar figure in drachen mail barged in with a sack atop his shoulders. From the way the knight dragoon scanned the room and the confident - yet threatening - posture they held themself at, she knew exactly who it was. 

So, thankful for the reprieve, and excuse to avoid eye contact with her master, Aria turned towards her brother-in-arms and waved once to catch his attention. He caught it immediately and stalked towards where she and the lord were. Upon reaching them, he dropped the bag he had been carrying with an unceremonious crash and indignation.

“Estinien,” Aria called in question. “What troubles you so?”

Aria saw how the Azure Dragoon’s lips curled with displeasure as he crossed his arms across his chest. In fact, there was even a little bit of fang protruding where he didn’t realize.

“I have naught the faintest idea what lies are spilling from your lips,” the man bit out.

Aria’s brow raised and it was then that she allowed herself to glance towards Lord Haurchefant. Her master was eyeing her with similar confusion, clearly unsure of how to approach the man in his irate state. With his head nodding towards her comrade, Aria sighed and turned to Estinien once more.

“Come, Estinien,” Aria insisted, reaching out to strap her trishula - standing at her side against the wall - against her back. She turned to Yaelle and Corentiaux then. “I would ask that the both of you escort Lord Haurchefant back to the manor.”

“Understood, my lady,” the two answered in unison.

As Aria turned to leave, following a grumpy dragoon that was cursing incessantly under his breath, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and found that her master had stopped her in her tracks.

“Where will you be going?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Aria smiled, for all she could. “If I am lucky, Providence Point. If I am not, the caverns near Whitebrim. Nonetheless, I will return to you anon, my lord.”

Haurchefant, bless his heart, pouted.

“Come back safe, alright?” he urged. “It would not do for a delicate lady such as yourself to return all battered and bruised!”

_A delicate lady…_

Aria clenched her fist tight at her side, out of sight from the lord, and nodded easily. Without waiting for a response, the small Hyuran woman marched out the doors and immediately vaulted into the skies. When she landed on a nearby tree branch, she could see the footsteps her comrade left behind for her, as well as the roaring aether tumulting in the direction the footsteps were pointing at. She could hear his song, a cry for an endless pain to cease and for a harrowed past to be brought back to life.

She chased after him, jump after jump, with droplets of blood growing ever more frequent and larger in size the closer she approached Daniffen Pass, the tunnels connecting Whitebrim just outside of the Gates of Judgement, to Boulder Downs in the southwestern terrain of the Central Highlands. Aria needn’t travel much further before she found him leaning against the cavern wall, hands pressed against his abdomen in a frugal attempt to apply pressure to a freshly made wound. Just off to the side, Aria found the corpse of a cyclops that had claimed this portion of the tunnels its territory. Poor thing.

“Estinien, is the Eye troubling you again?” Aria asked with neither gentleness nor aggravation.

Estinien growled. “A moment of lost focus. One of ours had returned to us half-dead and with the _thrice-damned wyrm_ laughing in my ear, I thought it best to slay the beast that injured our comrade myself.”

Aria stepped towards the man slowly, hunching herself low to make her less threatening than he knows her to be. She saw Estinien jerk and twitch, but otherwise made no other movement signalling discomfort. It was her chance before he loses the control he has now.

“I am going to go into my pouch and procure a vial for you, Estinien,” she explained to him as she met his gaze underneath his helm. “You can watch me while I do so, but after I pull it out, I need you to take it for me. It will sting at the beginning, but that just means it is working.”

Aria and Estinien stared at each other in silence, the only sounds echoing around them being the heavy breathing the man was releasing from exertion. The woman prayed he would answer quickly - she had heard there was a blizzard coming soon.

The moment Estinien inclined his head to a makeshift nod, Aria did exactly as she said she would. She removed a vial from where it sat in the utility pouch strapped to her leg and offered it to him gingerly. In turn, her brother-in-arms scanned the object, a scrutinizing look plastered on his face before he scowled and downed the vial in one sitting. Too quick, for he began coughing relentlessly.

“Easy there,” Aria murmured to him, reaching out to press her hand gently against his arm.

While the dragoon flinched at her touch, he didn’t outright deny her. Rather, once he was used to the sensation, it appeared as if he was trying to prevent himself from leaning against her. Aria heaved a sigh.

“I am bringing you to Alberic,” Aria stated.

Estinien growled and grumbled, but whatever words he attempted to lash out on her with was lost in a slur, a series of jumbled messes that came out as mere whimpering. Eventually, the dragoon, now in a half-sleep state, was being manhandled by a woman half his size as she lifted him on her shoulder much like the sack of...whatever it was he presented before her master.

Speaking of her master, it was the second bell of the appointed hour. She hopes he returned safely.

With another sigh, Aria jumped into the air with her cargo to make her way towards the Observatorium just south of the camp her master has in his care. With the added weight, the woman could only travel half the distance with each jump while using twice the effort. Not to mention the temperature was beginning to drop again.

Luckily for her, the moment she reached the Observatorium, the man she was looking for was just about to enter the barracks.

“Alberic!” Aria called out while still in the air.

A male Hyur darted his eyes around before peering up, catching the sight of Aria’s landing before the fact. His expression was one of astonishment but it disappeared the moment he realized that his practically adopted son was both wounded and unconscious against the woman’s figure.

“By the Fury,” Alberic gasped as he scrambled to take Estinien from her.

Estinien groaned in protest but made no other effort to communicate. Aria hummed at the sight of it.

“I made him take an elixir to stave off the worse of it until a chirurgeon attends to him,” Aria explained. “Nothing special, the same ones the apothecary in the Crozier vendors. If he is addled overmuch from it, it is the result of a depletion of his aether.”

Alberic listened attentively and nodded with soldierly comprehension when she was finished speaking.

“My thanks, Aria,” Alberic replied with a soft smile.

Aria shook her head. “I did nothing of great import.”

“Aria, he turns to no one else because no one else really understands his situation, save you,” Alberic recounted the same words he’s said many a time before. “Despite there being no precedent for it, I am quite glad you are the one that was chosen to be the second Azure Dragoon of your generation. The uniqueness of it allows him to see in a new light.”

“I rather find it confusing why he chooses not to run to his other friend,” Aria scoffed. What was his name again? The one with the fancy hair she has seen walking around Foundation. “Perchance it is because we are keeping my existence as the second Azure Dragoon a secret, among other things...Well, whatever the reason, I must return to deliver a report to the Congregation regarding Estinien’s absence lest they hound me in the morn to sniff him out. Lord Edmont and Lord Haurchefant are also waiting for my return.”

Aria bowed respectfully in Alberic’s direction before she turned to leave. However, the last words the man said made her freeze where she stood.

“You mustn’t wallow in negativity, Aria,” Alberic offered, less of a scolding and more of advice, from master to student. “You may have no recollection of who you were or why you were brought here, but life is so much more than just being in service to another. Especially one that treats you as much an equal as he.”

Aria allowed herself to ponder on his words before vaulting away, traversing the snowy banks back to the city proper.

“‘A delicate lady,’ huh…” she muttered to herself with bitter resentment, stoking a fire within her chest. “How far you are from the truth, my lord.”

  
 _I live to serve,_ she thought. _Nothing more._


	3. Planned Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild scheming to schedule a meeting from a father looking to do something for someone he views as a son.

As his latest appointment had drawn to a close, Aymeric was left standing in his office as the lord made his departure. As soon as the lord commander was left alone, he collapsed into his seat and ran his fingers through his hair with a deep sigh.

 _This makes the fifth one_ , he thought to himself. _Only four left for the day...and then there is a meeting tomorrow..._

Aymeric retrieved a piece of parchment and quill from his drawer to write a list of what had remained, of reminders so that he wouldn't forget and notes that he would need to ask either Lucia or Handeloup to follow up on. While he's made many a list as such before, the physical act of writing them down makes it thousands of times easier to remember at the sheet's expense. It wouldn't do for him to forget a thing, lest an angry noble come marching through his door.

As Aymeric wrote, he became acutely aware of the way the world around him appeared - the white of the paper, the black of the ink and the greyscale of everything else with differing shades of 'brightness' and 'darkness'. He heard how some couples described this world that he's ever known as 'monotone' and that they could never go back to it once they had found their partner, but just how _different_ was it? It's not like it's impeding on his daily life as it would were he to be blind. 

Then, a knock against his door.

"My lord," Lucia's voice rang from the other side. "You have a guest."

Aymeric raised a brow. "Very well, see them in."

When the door opened, the lord commander was pleasantly surprised to find none other than Lord Edmont de Fortemps in his usual alpine coat, emblem of his house on the chest, and cane in hand for support on his left side. He stood to welcome him and the lord smiled in turn as he waved his actions away.

"Pay this old man no mind, Ser Aymeric," Lord Edmont teased. "I am merely a shameful lord taking advantage of my familiarity with you to book a meeting on a whim."

Aymeric laughed at that. "Nonsense, my lord. Had it not been for your house's contribution to the war efforts, we would nary have the ability to maintain the wards at the Steps of Faith. As such, you have done Ishgard a grand service and I must thank you on her behalf."

Once more, Lord Edmont waved him away.

"You are kind overmuch," Lord Edmont answered with a respectful incline of his head. "The efforts of my sons have proven to warrant much praise. As well as one other in service to my second."

Aymeric blinked and sat back in his seat, resting his elbows on his desk so he would be able to intertwine his fingers just below his chin in contemplation.

"A particular knight deserving of accolades, my lord?" he asked.

Lord Edmont shook his head. "She is neither a knight nor desires rewards of grandeur. Simply, she is a woman that Haurchefant had taken under his wing several moons ago out of pity. She knows naught of who she is or where she hails from, only that the soul crystals she bears are hers and hers alone. Whilst she is fiercely protective of them, she has demonstrated her skills in service to my son in his work at Camp Dragonhead. Enough so to convince me to grant her asylum as a ward of our honored house."

Aymeric hummed. "Oh? Would it be remiss of me to ask for further details? Or would it be better if I were to make a personal visit to the camp myself?"

Lord Edmont smiled knowingly at Aymeric's words. As he was about to reply, the door had suddenly swung open and a familiar dragoon had walked in with helm held at his waist, long hair messily stranded across the metal of armor. Moreover, the scowl that was on the man's face was enough to depict the mood of whatever happenings may have occurred the night prior.

"Estinien, there you are," Aymeric called. "We had received word that your return would be delayed because of injury."

From the corner of his eye, Aymeric saw the way Lord Edmont's gaze darted from him to the Azure Dragoon. Estinien groaned to emphasize his displeasure.

"Aye, I was brought to the Observatorium by my sister-in-arms," he grunted.

Aymeric raised a brow. "To Ser Alberic, I presume?"

Estinien gave him a glare that could freeze a pack of dire wolves if he wanted it to, but knowing of his friend and comrade, Aymeric only laughed with mirth.

"Someone that knows you well enough to bring you to where you need without fearing your temper," Aymeric jested. "I would like to meet with her, truly, if only to see what manner of woman she is."

"As it stands, my lord, she is the selfsame woman we were discussing just a moment past," Lord Edmont commented.

Aymeric made an elongated 'oh' to show his sudden curiosity while Estinien huffed, as would a haughty, pride-filled cat.

"Good luck trying to bring her here," he managed to answer rather matter-of-factly. "If you think _I_ despise any formal or political functions, that woman is ten times _worse_."

"Which makes my curiosity all the deeper," Aymeric replied easily. "Is she also of the dragoons, Estinien?"

Estinien frowned. "Yes and no. She has trained under Alberic and does aid us in missions where needed, but if it interferes with her duty towards Lord Haurchefant or if the lord does not order it, she will outright refuse."

Aymeric's eyes widened with slight surprise and Lord Edmont raised a hand to cup his chin in contemplation.

"Indeed, that child's fierce loyalty is second to none," the lord mused. "Mayhap on an equal level to Ser Estinien here to you, Ser Aymeric."

Aymeric hummed. "Truly? Then it would seem a journey to Camp Dragonhead would be in my favor..."

"I highly doubt it," Estinien interjected. "That woman is always sent out somewhere in the Central and Western Highlands. Catching her before the sun sets is nigh impossible unless you have someone that can essentially sense her from malms away to track her down."

Aymeric didn't miss the way Estinien and Lord Edmont's gazes met with each other. At this point, he was able to tell that there was something more going on with this mysterious, unknown woman but if two of his stoutest allies are not ready to give him a proper answer, who was he to force them to do so? If he did, he would be as cruel as the man his father was.

His father...

"Ah, I know what we can do," Lord Edmont chimed in. "Ser Aymeric, House Haillenarte is preparing for a banquet the day after the morrow. I would assume you have also been sent an invitation?"

Aymeric groaned at the reminder of the marriage proposal he was given. "Indeed."

"How coincidental, for House Fortemps was also cordially invited to the festivities," Lord Edmont answered. "In this planned respite, it would be remiss of us to not have some form of _security_ should something occur in the eve, no?"

Estinien raised a brow. "You will bring her to a place she detests while using the excuse that it is for her work? Clever, my lord."

"All of us in House Fortemps will be in attendance," Lord Edmont explained nonchalantly. "If something were to happen to my sons, I would be most displeased. Having one of our own would set my mind at ease, as would any father wish for their family."

Aymeric nodded. "I understand. I must thank you for such kindness, my lord."

Lord Edmont smiled gently and bowed before the lord commander. "'Tis of no trouble, Ser Aymeric."

Aymeric turned to Estinien then and the dragoon flinched, knowing the words that threatened to escape his lips.

"Do I have to?" Estinien growled.

Aymeric's smile did nothing to alleviate his worries and the man simply shook his head.

"Fine, if only to prevent Aria from throwing a tantrum," Estinien answered rather begrudgingly.

 _Aria_... Aymeric thought. _So that is her name..._

_Like a song._

Aymeric smiled pleasantly to himself, which prompted Estinien and Lord Edmont to look towards each other with helpless expressions. Another set of knocks broke the three from their collective thoughts as Lucia stepped inside the office in announcement.

"My lord, your next appointment has arrived," the second-in-command called.

"Well then, 'tis about time we depart," Lord Edmont commented.

Aymeric nodded and turned to Estinien. "Leave your report with Lucia, Estinien."

Estinien waved towards him in dismissal as he turned to follow the count out of the Seat of the Lord Commander. Left alone with thoughts for another brief moment, Aymeric allowed himself to become encapsulated in a sudden wave of excitement. He wondered why, for it would simply be a meeting with a soldier taken under the Fortemps' wing that he would be introducing himself to.

Yet, another part deep within him was screaming that the person he was to be meeting was so much more. So much more than just 'simply a person'. 

  
He wondered why.


	4. A Cordial Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaze into the abyss too long and you may find that there is something staring right back at you, even as you are being lulled into a false sense of security.

The sound of pained groans surrounded Aria where she stood, an array of bodies collapsed around her feet in a distant corner of the Brume. Some were completely knocked out cold while others had some sense in them to reach to their comrades to carry them off for medical assistance. Yet, the fact of the matter remained that the ones that she had brought low were _Temple Knights_.

"Someone with your strength working for a bastard knight...!" one of them shouted. "Do you feel no shame?!"

Aria's eyes wandered towards the one that called out to her. She felt nothing inside, though there was a mild hint of irritation blooming up within her. In the end, all she did was sigh and shake her head.

“Whether he is a bastard or not is irrelevant to me,” she answered in turn. “The fact remains that my lord has much more honor as a knight than any of you will ever have.”

As the woman turned to leave the mewling knights behind, her head began pounding with every heartbeat and her sight became somewhat blurry. In the distant corner of her mind, flashes of fire and ice, of gales and earthquakes crossed and emerged. The scars she bears across her skin seemed to burn and ache with each thought, with each assault thrown in her direction in the form of vivid images and screams. It threatened to consume her whole from the inside out, like kindling creating a wildfire.

> “ _That is just how you really feel._ ”

From the corner of her eye, Aria saw dark tendrils condensing, aetherial manifestations that rose higher to match her height. It contorted and took shape, becoming a manner of a simulacrum with a face mirroring her own. Her eyes, her hair, her lips, it was all the same. The only difference was the heavy plated armor it wore when she normally outfitted herself in light cloths no matter her class.

Regardless, Aria both knew and did not know where this simulacrum hailed from. She pinpointed its association to her soul of a Dark Knight, but the way it behaved was...different.

> “ _Of course I am different_. _I am the you that cries out in your heart. The you that knows the truth you try so desperately to escape from. A reality too bothersome to be remembered._ ”

The simulacrum stepped closer to Aria’s person and wrapped its arms loosely around her shoulders. The woman didn’t bother to move, her gaze fixed pointedly at the ground as the living shadow whispered seductively in her ear.

> “ _Hey, hey, why do we not just run away? To another place where no duty falls on our shoulders? Away from this place that contains so much pain. Sure, we can destroy all the things we do not like, but at the end of the day, we are still one person._ ”

Indeed. Why not just escape in the middle of the night to another nation, another place to begin anew without the petty politics to follow? Better yet, why not just peer over the edge of the chasms that surround Ishgard and allow the bottomless pit to do its work, the imaginings of bodies falling deeper and deeper into the seventh hell itself?

The simulacrum giggled in her ear.

> “ _Because, at the end of the day, we know how the pet cannot betray its master…_ ”

As the simulacrum faded into nothing, Aria reached out and slammed her fist against the stone wall beside her, releasing a feral growl that served to remove the anger within. Her hand throbbed but it didn’t ache as much as the pain within her chest from the words brought to her attention. Her fear of knowing who she was and what she did...if it was a past filled with cruelty, would she be shunned from the place that she made for herself?

Aria sighed and shook her head. Telling herself it was not the time to doubt, she turned in the direction of the Pillars in order to make her return back to the manor. Her morning duties were complete and she needed to report to the count before making her way back to Camp Dragonhead. Not to mention she would need to stockpile some firewood for the soldiers on the night guard because of the cold...and did Lord Artoirel make mention he needed assistance in Falcon’s Nest?

Her thoughts kept the woman preoccupied enough that time seemed to flow rather quickly. Before she knew it, she was entering Fortemps manor and made her way towards the den, where the count usually has his morning tea and so she may detail her findings-

But Haurchefant was present.

“My lord?” Aria called out.

Both Lord Edmont and Haurchefant peered up from where they were standing with smiles on their faces and welcoming expressions. It did well to warm her heart, for a reason that she couldn't really understand, as the son stepped towards her and wrapped his arms around her in a greeting. Aria understandably stiffened at the contact and couldn't suppress a shriek when the young lord had picked her up from the floor and spun her in circles in the air, laughing at her reaction.

"Welcome home, Aria!" Haurchefant exclaimed.

Aria squealed. "M-My lord, I pray you stop this!"

As soon as she let the words slip her lips, her master had placed her gently on the ground and patted her head, prompting a heavy sigh from the woman. Before she could say a thing to follow, the young lord had already spoken up to fill the silence.

"Splendid news, Aria!" he said rather joyously. "You will be joining the Fortemps family at the Haillenarte banquet two nights from now!"

Aria's eyes widened in both surprise and dread. Her gaze wandered towards the count in hope for a denial, but the man smiled as gently as the sun.

"Indeed, Aria," the count answered. "The lord commander has expressed his interest in personally thanking you for your service. You will be meeting with him at the banquet and exchanging courtesies."

The face that Aria was making must have truly been a spectacle to behold, for the count's eyes widened at the sight of it and her master became delightfully curious.

"Ah, Aria is making a disgusted face," Haurchefant commented nonchalantly. “You truly hate such political functions, my friend?”

As the lord bellowed with mirth, Aria huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“‘Tis not a place I see myself enjoying at all, my lord,” she answered.

Lord Edmont, understanding her plight, nodded in agreement rather easily.

“Think of it simply as performing your duty, my dear,” he offered. “After all, in order to arrange this meeting, we had agreed that it would be under the happenstance of you participating in the security detail with Ser Estinien-.”

Aria’s brows raised. “ _Estinien_ is going to be attending, as well, my lord?”

_Ah, caught her attention,_ the count thought. “Indeed, my dear. At least you will not be alone for the majority of the event, yes?”

Aria hummed in contemplation while Haurchefant seemed to pout off to the side. As he slid himself closer to the woman, the count was eyeing his son with understandable reproach.

“And mine company is not enough for the fair maiden?” Haurchefant asked in a theatrically brokenhearted tone. “You wound me, dear Aria.”

Aria sighed. “Indeed, my lord. ‘Twould be remiss of me to keep watch over you on my lonesome when ‘tis a two person task. Fear not, for my brother-in-arms owes me a favor and he is not of the type to let me go on without paying his debts.”

Haurchefant sighed heavily as he gracefully feigned dejection, prompting Lord Edmont to laugh as he would watching banter between two children.

“I will leave the manner of dress to you, Haurchefant,” the count said as he turned towards his office. “Just ensure that the color is that of our house.”

As Lord Edmont stepped away from the den, Haurchefant waved an arm towards Aria in a bid to get her to follow. She fell in stride easily as the pair left the manor and made for the direction of the Jeweled Crozier.

“My lord, if I may be so bold, what is the color of the Fortemps house?” Aria asked.

Haurchefant gave an elongated hum in thought of how to answer her question.

“In the simplest form, it is ‘red,’ my dear,” her master answered. “At least, that is what Father says it is.”

Aria knew the laws of reality. Even if she didn’t have any memories of her own past, she managed to retain basic knowledge of worldly functions - including the fact that the perception of everything around a person remains ‘colorless’ until they meet their ‘fated’ person. Lord Edmont had met such a criteria and found his entire being altered in the span of seconds. Even as he is left a single man, he still remains holding the ability to see his environment in this new light. The only scandal is whether he obtained the power to see color when he met his lawfully-wedded wife _or his mistress._

_For whatever good that would do,_ Aria thought. _As long as I am capable in serving him, that is all that matters._

Yet, curiosity prodded the woman on.

“What color is this ‘red’ exactly, my lord?” she asked. “Do you know?”

Haurchefant tilted his head, stopping in his tracks to cup his chin in thought. Aria eyed him patiently, like a youngling waiting to be served food by its mother. From the way that his forehead between his brows crinkled, it would seem he hadn’t the idea of what ‘colors’ were, either.

“From the way that Father explained it to me…’tis the color of mirror apples,” Haurchefant answered. “Of the sunset sky and blood. A proud shade symbolizing the unbound love and unbridled passions our house was founded on.”

Haurchefant exaggerated a shrug.

“Not that I know of it,” he continued. “I am just as blind to this unknown world of ‘color’ as you are, my dear.”

Aria frowned. “But you are not blind, my lord.”

“True, but think of it, Aria,” her master urged as he stretched his arms out as he gazed towards the sky. “A bright world we have yet to understand unlocked by a meeting of destiny with our most cherished beloved! ‘Tis the stuff of ballads sung by the most famed of bards! A spectacle! An _honor!_ ”

Ignoring her lord’s sudden outburst, Aria continued walking forward in the direction of the tailor’s shop that the Fortemps often frequent and commission. As she left her master behind, she didn’t have the opportunity to see his forlorn expression as he gazed towards her with longing eyes, nevermind hear his whispers into empty air.

“‘A meeting of destiny with our most cherished beloved’, huh?” he murmured. “If only…”

Pushing his emotions aside, Haurchefant followed after the woman, steeling his heart.


	5. True Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a time and a place for everything, regardless of whether or not you wish of it.

Aymeric had always admired the swift manner to which the High Houses would prepare for festivities. Perhaps it is because of the power they hold that sway their servants into efficiency or the manner to which the working class desires coin in these troubling times. Regardless of the reason, this distraction is needed, he thought. A light at the end of the tunnel amidst the unending war their nation has been waging against the Dravanians.

However, despite it being a light at the end of the tunnel for the nobles, it was nothing but a dark abyss for the lord commander. No matter where he turned, there were families attempting to back him into the corner. Noble parents wishing to introduce their daughters, presiding lords that wanted to give vent for treatises he didn't agree with and publicly humiliate him - it was no different than what he faced on a daily basis.

"Thank you for your attendance, my lord," a voice called to him from behind.

Aymeric blinked in confusion and turned to find two familiar faces - a certain Lady Laniaitte and Lord Francel Haillenarte. The lady, and overseer of Camp Cloudtop, curtsied before the lord, to which he answered by taking her hand in his to offer it a respectful kiss to her fingers.

"The gratitude is mine, my lady, for extending the invitation to mine offices," Aymeric responded with his usual winning smile.

Lady Laniaitte could only smile wryly in turn. "Rather, I would like to apologize for my father's forthcoming behavior. 'Tis rather shameful, in my opinion, to hold a banquet for the sole purpose of elaborating on a marriage proposal."

Aymeric shook his head. "Do not fret, my lady. Let us celebrate this brief moment of respite nonetheless."

Both Haillenartes gave respectful bows to the lord commander, just as Aymeric exchanged one of his own, but the youngest of them all had shifted his gaze behind him to eye a set of guests that had recently arrived. From the way Francel's eyes lit up, it must have been a group he's been expecting for a while.

The lord commander turned on his heel and found the Fortemps family together with Lord Edmont at the forefront. Of course, Artoirel, Haurchefant and Emmanllein were in tow, with the second son appearing more jovial than usual. His smile was as manic as ever and had brightened even further when his friend approached him to extend greetings. The atmosphere was ambient, one that Aymeric wished he had with his own family...

A figure shifted at Haurchefant's side that caught the man's attention. With the angle that they stood, Aymeric was unable to make out the individual's face, but from the long cloth cascading to the floor swaying with their movements, it was a lady that was in their accompaniment.

_Mayhap 'tis this 'Aria' I have heard so much of_ , Aymeric pondered.

Following his meeting with both Lord Edmont and Estinien, Aymeric found himself insatiably curious. That being said, he found himself asking Lucia to collect any information that may be at their disposal. Ironically, anything regarding her distant history was decidedly _missing_ , the only details surfacing are those regarding her accomplished deeds in the months that she was under the care of the Fortemps. When analyzing _those_ documents, Aymeric was surprised to find reports were listed under Lord Haurchefant's name and not her own.

_"Indeed, that child's fierce loyalty is second to none,"_ Aymeric remembered Lord Edmont saying. _"Mayhap on an equal level to Ser Estinien here to you, Ser Aymeric."_

Moreover, reports of any 'unruly' members amongst the Temple Knights, particularly those that have a notorious account of repeated offenses, had gone down since her first documented report. When he searched for more details regarding this trend, there were only eyewitness accounts of how a mysterious heavy armored individual clad in obsidian would be present whenever a situation would become the most tense. With their claymore, they would put the knights in their place.

_Is there some sort of connection?_

Aymeric sighed and shook his head. He knew that he was thinking overmuch about such things, somewhat troubled by the lack of distraction he was receiving from the other houses. Yet, in the long run, it could be said that he was also moderately relieved. As such, he took the opportunity to approach the Fortemps family after they exchanged greetings with the Haillenarte son. Upon noticing his presence, the count smiled gently.

"Ser Aymeric, a pleasure," Lord Edmont greeted.

As the sons motioned to bow respectfully to the lord commander, Aymeric simply nodded with both acknowledgement and appreciation.

"The pleasure is mine, my lord," Aymeric answered. "It was by mere happenstance that I bore witness to your entrance just now and 'twould be remiss of me to go on without personally thanking you and yours for-"

As Aymeric was speaking, his gaze wandered just past the count to the small figure that stood beside Haurchefant. He felt his eyes widening at the small Hyur in a sleeveless chiffon bodice dress, a thin silken scarf wrapped around the bare skin of her biceps to protect her from any drafts. The woman's expression was pointedly neutral until their gazes locked with one another.

After all, who could possibly keep their calm at the sudden sensory overstimulation they were receiving?

The world around Aymeric erupted in vivid shades, the light of the manor brightening thousands of times over to the point that he almost cringed in pain. Such wondrous shades that he has not seen before - the way that the fabric of the Fortemps and Haillenarte bore the same as the rose bouquets around the tables, the way his attire matched the sapphire of the Ishgardian crest...not to mention others that patterned the dancefloor in the form of dresses and suits, like glowing stars walking along the mortal plane.

_This...this is color?_ , Aymeric thought. _It..._

"What...is this?" a small voice echoed his inner thought.

Aymeric turned his attention to the small Hyur and her face had become pale. Her eyes were wide, in the a beautiful shade that he had never seen before, as it glistened against the manor light. The expression she wore was filled with controlled fear, one that he would see often in the green-eyed recruits among the Temple Knights going to battle for the first time. Measured and in check.

"Is aught amiss, dear Aria?" Haurchefant asked her quizzically. 

Aria peered down towards her dress and her eyes widened further, the calm and collected facade she was bearing being sorely tested.

"This...is 'red', my lord?" the woman mused, in both awe and slight concern.

Lord Edmont raised his brows in shock, turning to her when she had made the comment.

"You can see the color, my dear?" he asked.

Aria nodded. "If it may be called such. It was when..."

Aria's gaze lifted and wandered towards the lord commander, to which he could only stare back at her with an expression matching her own. From the way the both of them appeared, the count had no doubt that they were experiencing that 'chance encounter'. For it to be between a foot soldier and the viscount of the Borel house, however, was another story.

"What do the colors on Ser Aymeric match within this room, Aria?" the lord asked. Though he knew the woman not to be a liar, he still wanted to make sure.

Aria blinked, then stared at the colors of Aymeric's armor. The man, in turn, suddenly felt the weight of her eyes scrutinizing him tenfold, a pressure to which he has never felt - not even with his own father. Her gaze would dart between him and objects around the ballroom, as if trying to make sense and find things that could come across as similar, just as he did.

"The metal...reminds me of the chandeliers, my lord," Aria answered when she pointed out the detailing on his armor.

Aymeric peered up towards the ceiling and, indeed, the same hue of the chandeliers were found on him. From what he remembered, such figures were often bronze or iron painted in 'gold'.

"And the cloth?" the count asked.

Aria's brows furrowed. "'Tis of similar shade to the Ishgardian banner, my lord. However..."

"However?" Haurchefant prodded.

Aria inclined her head, seeming to search for the proper words. "The lord commander's colors...are richer. Fuller. It seems to be brighter than the mild hue of our nation's emblem. 'Tis difficult to explain..."

The murmurs that the count and his sons shared amongst each other were white noise in the back of Aymeric's mind. All he could see was the radiance in the woman before him as he was becoming engulfed in the sudden desire to come closer, to touch, to feel.

So, the Elezen bent forward ever so slightly in a respectful bow as he offered her his hand.

"It will be mine honor to ask for your hand in this dance, my lady," he said, only half-aware he phrased his request as a command rather than a question.

Aria stared at him blankly for but a moment before her eyes darted towards Haurchefant, then to Lord Edmont. At their encouraging nods, she faced Aymeric once more and curtsied before him.

  
"It would be mine honor alone."


	6. With A Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you are scared of must be destroyed, but when you cannot destroy it, you choose to run away.  
> How long will you keep acting like this?  
> Do you not see what you are doing?  
> Do you not know how it must feel?
> 
> Do you?

To Aria, describing the occurrence as 'confusing' would do her sentiments a disservice. One moment, she was viewing the world as she normally would - in its simple monotone - and the next, different shades erupted before her eyes on all facet of things around her. The clothing, the furniture, the portraits, the decorations - it was all so _terribly bright_ and the woman had half a mind to sprint outside the manor into the soft embrace of night. Of darkness.

And it started when she mistakenly looked into the lord commander's eyes.

> " _What a pitiful creature you are, mewling at the thought of seeing color_ ," a voice whispered inside her mind and heart. " _Terrified of the thought of tethering yourself to yet one other._ "

_**Shut up.** _

"It will be mine honor to ask for your hand in this dance, my lady," the lord commander offered her.

Aria wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful for the distraction presented to her in the form of this noble asking for her hand in a dance. So, she curtsied after seeking permission from her charge.

"It would be mine honor alone," Aria answered respectfully.

When she straightened her posture, she reached out and accepted Aymeric's offered hand as she followed his lead. From the corner of her eyes, Aria could see the judgmental looks she was receiving from some of the nobles. From the way it appeared, they were scorning her in their envy, for what reason would the lord commander and lord speaker of Ishgard want with an _outsider_ such as her? Aria sighed.

She wanted to know the answer to that question herself.

When the pair had reached an empty space on the dance floor, Aymeric positioned his hand on her waist, lifting one of hers in the air whilst the other was placed on the man's shoulder. Quite conveniently, the song that had just been playing had ended, silence ensuing for one brief moment before another one began playing. A soft waltz - jovial in nature, yet not demanding in technique.

Aria's eyes never left the lord commander's and neither did his. It wasn't that she was sizing him up; this was essentially Estinien's _charge_ after all. If there was someone that painstakingly earned the grumpy dragoon's trust, it was someone deserving of respect. 

As for who he was, Aria hadn't paid attention to the details. She knew that there were rumors going around about the origins of Aymeric de Borel's birth. She dismissed them as idle chatter among the houses, its nobles often not spending their time efficiently despite the delicate situation their nation has been in for well over a thousand years. To the ones that she _did_ hear, it depicted a studious man with gifted intelligence on warfare, a charisma that is so damn needed in leadership and a righteous desire for _equality_ that doesn't discriminate based on birth and blood.

> " _What does that matter to you? 'Tis not like you care as long as it does not interfere with your master..._ "

"Is aught amiss, my lady?" the man asked.

Aria blinked away the daze and found that the lord commander was eyeing her with slight concern. For what reason he should be was beyond her, but she merely forced a small smile and inclined her head in a makeshift nod.

"Indeed, my lord," she answered. "However, simply 'Aria' would suffice."

"'Aria' it is then," Aymeric answered with a pleased smile of his own. "Lord Edmont has brought to mine attention that you have contributed much to Ishgard's needs despite the nation not being your home."

Aria sighed inwardly, attempting to mask her displeasure at the comment that he had given. From the confused expression he answered her with, she had done a poor job of it.

"I simply follow my master's orders, my lord," Aria responded in a leveled tone. "Nothing more."

Aymeric gave a small hum and reached up to twirl Aria in front of him to the rhythm of the song. The woman followed his lead and matched his steps, returning back into his arms once the single spin was completed.

"Is it true you have no recollection of your past?" Aymeric inquired gently.

"Yes, my lord," the small Hyuran figure answered. "When Lord Haurchefant had found me, 'twas at the beginnings of a blizzard. I was near the camp and he had been returning from training with his soldiers. I only remember the silver of the storm and pain engulfing my entire body, as if I was being burnt alive."

Aymeric's eyes widened at the explanation, his lips parting slightly in shock, but the woman didn't pay any mind to it.

"According to the chirurgeon, not only had I been poisoned, but I had also sustained multiple wounds leading to severe blood loss," Aria continued. "Had the lord not found me when he did, they were sure that I would be in a worse condition - if not dead."

"I see ... 'tis a miracle from the Fury herself that you were spared from such a death," Aymeric answered before he brought both Aria and himself into a slow spin together.

Aria nodded as she felt the fabric of her dress twirl with her movements, locks of her hair matching its movement. Some strands here and there cascaded down her back while others remained flowing over her shoulder at the front of her torso. The sight of it sparked a twinkle in the lord commander's eyes and Aria found that Aymeric's cheeks were turning into a light shade matching her dress.

"If I may be so bold, Ser Aymeric," she spoke then. "For what reason does a regular soldier such as myself have the honor of your good graces?"

Aymeric chuckled softly to himself then.

"I am quite ashamed to admit it is mainly out of curiosity," Aymeric answered. "The Fortemps count and the Azure Dragoon are sparse in their compliments, you must know. Yet, when they spoke of you, it was with nothing but familiarity and praise. My thanks for aiding my good friend, by the by."

Aria shook her head at his last comment.

"Ser Estinien is, by all intents and purposes, my brother-in-arms and _friend_ ," she replied. "Not to mention the fact that Ser Alberic was gracious enough to take me under his tutelage in the ways of the knights dragoon."

Both Aria and Aymeric heard the final build of the song. Knowing that the dance was to draw to a close, they continued on with silence shared between the both of them. It was beyond her understanding to the reason why her body just seemed to know the steps to make, following the lord commander's movements as easily as wind and water entwined. 

Yet, what was more confusing was the sensation of _longing_ that she felt as she gazed upon him. Something inside of her screamed in boundless relief and joy, at the chance of _finally_ meeting him. Why?

> " _..._ "

The song came to a close and the lord commander had the boldness to dip Aria's frame back ever so slightly. Being taken by surprise, all the woman could do was gasp and allow her much tinier frame be held in his arms, helpless, as she is forced to allow this closeness and the sudden pressure his eyes were pinning on her.

Then, there were claps.

When Aria realized what happened, her eyes darted and found that the dance floor had become empty save for the two of them. Some nobles watched in awe while others were staring at her begrudgingly despite their claps marking praise. The spotlight was suffocating, so she quickly motioned to straighten herself and Aymeric aided her in turn.

As Aria curtsied and Aymeric bowed towards each other, the woman felt as if the weight of the world was threatening to crush her head. She winced at the suddenness of it, a hand reaching up to hold its side as a ringing accompanied it. It was painful and there was a wonder to how she managed to keep herself upright at its sensation.

Amidst the white noise, Aria could hear distant screaming in the back of her mind. Desperate shouts, crashes, explosions and the squeezing of her heart in recognition did nothing to stave off the inner turmoil gradually beginning to mount and pile on top of each other. 

She just needed to ignore it, she thought. Place herself and the pain far away from each other. Slowly. Slowly.

Surely.

> " _And you yet choose...to run away._ "

In the snap of a finger, the sudden anguish she was experiencing had dissipated like smoke. Without her realizing, she had been brought to where the Fortemps family was patiently awaiting her return, with a concerned Haurchefant hovering about her.

"Aria...?" he called out to her. "Are you alright?"

Aria parted her lips to answer, but before she could, the familiar voice whispered.

> " _Of course..."_

"I am well, my lord," Aria answered.

> " _...you hide it with a lie._ "

  
For the rest of the banquet, Aria remained despondent by the second son's side.


	7. After the Bell Tolled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Covered in crimson, he watched her go  
> Amidst a silver storm and a winged assault.

The days following the Haillenarte banquet, there were two things that Aymeric de Borel was acutely aware of.

First, he had no doubt there was a semblance of affection he felt blossoming in his chest. The woman that had opened up his world to color was far beyond the meaning of the word ‘dazzling’. The color of her eyes - which he learned was the same ‘purple’ that amethysts have - shone the brightest in the ballroom and he felt her body meld against his when they danced. As if they were meant for each other.

Second, there was the damning fact that Aria seemed to be pointedly _avoiding_ him. When he visited the Fortemps manor, the steward would always note her absence, her location much too far for him to travel to if he wished to return to his offices after the noon reprieve. Otherwise, he would attempt to contact the presiding lord of Camp Dragonhead to request a short meeting, to which Haurchefant would answer that she had yet to return from her expeditions elsewhere.

Aymeric was growing discouraged and impatient.

No matter how he was feeling, he continued on with his duties. This time, his work led him to Falcon’s Nest for a routine inspection along with an order to cull the numbers of hostile mobs along the traveling route leading from the hamlet to the Forelands. With Estinien having nothing else to do, he accompanied the lord commander willingly; after all, no one is most eager to slay wyrms as he was.

However, the moment that Aymeric and Estinien arrived, with their small company of Temple Knights, there was a commotion going on between the knights of House Fortemps and House Durendaire running to and fro. Injured knights being carried by their companions to the medical building, as well as groups of men rushing out with urgency.

The lord commander searched the area before him and the second that Aymeric found what he was looking for, he marched forward.

“Lord Artoirel!” the man called.

Indeed, Artoirel - eldest son of House Fortemps - turned from where he was barking orders to the knights before him. At his side was Ser Redwald, a close acquaintance of Lord Drillemont under House Durendaire.

“Ser Aymeric,” Artoirel hailed and saluted.

“What is happening?” the lord commander asked.

Artoirel nodded obediently. “‘Tis the Dravanians, my lord. There is a host of wyrms that were sighted flying along Riversmeet towards Falcon’s Nest. Available knights have already been deployed, along with a single knight dragoon.”

Estinien frowned under his drachen helm. From the way that Aymeric saw it, it was as if his friend had sensed something foreboding in the distance. Before he could be stopped, the Azure Dragoon vaulted from his place in the direction of Riversmeet without a word.

“Estinien-! Damns it!” Aymeric bit out, then turned towards the Temple Knights. “Prepare yourselves, men. We, too, shall march!”

As the Temple Knight released a shout of acknowledgement, Redwald stepped forward with concern.

“My lord, no matter the reason, we cannot accept you undertaking this trial because of our shameful display,” he said.

Aymeric shook his head. “What are our titles if we do not put to action the vows we have pledged, Ser Redwald? Knights live to serve and there is no greater honor than being of service to their fellow man.”

Redwald’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he nodded in understanding. Then, he turned to Artoirel and the Fortemps son did the same before turning back to Aymeric.

“Ser Redwald shall accompany you with reinforcement of our own, Ser Aymeric,” Artoirel explained. “I will continue managing the knights here while awaiting further aid.”

At this, Aymeric nodded and began following Redwald out of Falcon’s Nest towards the north along Riversmeet. From the direction they were going, the lord commander assumed the fighting was occurring near Black Iron Bridge. The closer they approached, the more injured knights were being carted off back to the hamlet. Soon enough, he was able to hear shrills and battle cries, along with barking orders here and there.

Yet, a single command caught Aymeric’s attention.

“ _Hurry and bring the injured back! By the Fury, Lady Aria is fighting them alone!_ ”

Aymeric felt his heart pounding against his chest and this urged him to rush through Riversmeet all the faster. Even with the biting winds and harsh snowfall against his face, he pushed on. There was absolutely no way she could last fending off a horde of wyrms by herself.

At least, that’s what he thought.

As he presumed, the defense was being held on the southern side of Black Iron Bridge. There was definitely more than a handful of aevis flying in the air and assailing the knights. While there was fighting everywhere, there was but a single body that was dancing in the air with the Dravanians, occasionally riding the backs of one as they impaled them before vaulting off. Again. And again.

“Reinforcements!” Redwald cried and began shouting. “All injured fall back! Status report!”

A knight of House Durendaire approached carrying an injured on his back.

“Less than two and ten knights in stable condition, ser,” the knight reported. “The lady ordered us to leave the immediate vicinity and hold the line towards the hamlet.”

Redwald eyed him as if he grew a second head. “ _Lady Aria is fighting alone?!_ ”

Aymeric and the knight flinched.

“Aye, ser, she commanded it,” the knight explained. “Another knight dragoon had appeared when a larger wyrm had joined the main host. They led it away to the north so as to prevent overburdening the lady.”

At this moment, there was a loud screech followed by a crash. Aymeric dashed to close the distance as he unsheathed Naegling, yelling orders towards the Temple Knights to aid in the defense. He searched for the woman in the air as she felled one more wyrm as its corpse came crashing back to the earth. 

Unable to dismount quickly enough, Aria had bounced off the dragon’s back when it collided with the ground and fell onto the snow, rolling a few times and landing on her stomach. Aymeric watched as the woman tried to push herself off from the ground and faltered, all the while witnessing another dragon about to swoop in for an attack, and ran to her defense. With Naegling, he blocked the dragon’s dive, pushed it off and swung for a counter, to which he grazed the wyrm’s flesh.

“Are you alright?!” he cried out.

Aymeric heard Aria groan, as well as the sound of shifting behind him. He peered over his shoulder and found the woman wearing clothing Ishgardian in design, fabrics covering her torso and creating a tailcoat behind her dyed in a rose red. She wore snow white shorts and stockings of the same color with golden shin guards and a single shoulder guard on her left side.

“I...am fine,” she panted.

Aymeric scanned her more closely and found that her body was riddled with cuts and bruises. When she had her back turned to him as she stepped towards the dragon’s corpse to retrieve her trishula, the man saw claw marks ripping into her bodice and corset, crimson lines scarring her now open back.

“You are most certainly _not_ fine!” Aymeric retorted. “Fall back and leave the defense to us!”

Aria turned to face the lord commander and when he thought she was to listen to his order, her eyes - which he now knew to match the color of amethysts - darkened as she took her lance and threw it towards him. Aymeric gasped in surprise, only to find that she had aimed past his shoulder and suddenly a wounded cry erupted at his back followed by a crash. When he turned, he found a now dead aevis on the ground, with Aria’s weapon deep inside the creature’s skull between the eyes.

“Leave the line to the distracted?” Aria snorted as she stepped forward to retrieve her trishula. “I think not.”

“But, your injuries-!”

“Are merely flesh wounds,” Aria bit out before Aymeric could say another thing, hissing out when she strained to pull her weapon out and opening her wound even more. “Estinien is distracting the others past the bridge … I cannot leave until the deed is done.”

When Aria stumbled, Aymeric was of the mind to reach out and catch her. Yet the woman had quickly adjusted and used her weapon for support to rebalance herself.

Aymeric didn’t know what to say to her. She was as stubborn as Estinien was but it rather stung more seeing her push herself this way. Her attire was soaked with blood and by all means, he assumed that she was running on nothing but pure adrenaline with no counting how long she had been fighting prior to his arrival. From the way dragon corpses scattered the ground, there were at least two dozen enemies with half a dozen yet remaining.

Despite her pain, she fought on.

Aria high jumped from the ground towards another Dravanian, shooting like a precise arrow towards the wyrm and when the creature dodged, she repositioned herself to perform a _Dragonfire Dive_. The licks of residual aether shot out on impact and they both came crashing down to the earth. When an archaeornis dashed on the ground nearby, she released her _Blood of the Dragon_ and performed both a _Stardive_ and _Geirskogul_ to send the creature to the seventh hell. 

While Aymeric wanted to watch in both admiration and fascination, a pair of wandering aevis had approached too close and he took to battle stance to fight them off. He saw Aria spare him a glance from the corner of his eye and assessing that he seemed to have the situation under control, turned to address the other wyrms. In the time that Aymeric and the accompanying Temple Knights addressed the matter of the two wyrms, Aria had already slain the remaining assailants.

Aymeric sheathed his blade and ran towards the woman, who had collapsed to one knee whilst she used the body of her lance to prop herself up. Her breaths were at heavy pants and she yet pushed herself to stand, stumbling and staggering all the while. The lord commander reached out to wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady.

"Lady Aria, you must-" he tried.

"Estinien...!" she gasped and coughed out splotches of blood to the pure white snow beneath her feet. "Estinien ... Estinien is ..!"

When the woman was about to double over, she had lost the strength to continue holding on to her trishula and instead found purchase leaning against Aymeric. The man could see a haze clouding her eyes and it was at that moment that Estinien had vaulted from the direction of the bridge towards the company. Upon seeing the state of the woman, Aymeric saw his lips curl further into a frown and step towards her.

"Aria," he called out to her.

The woman lifted her head and squinted to focus her gaze on him.

"Estinien ... you are unharmed," she commented.

"Unlike a certain someone here," he grumbled. "Come, let us tend to your wounds."

"The wyrms-"

"Have fallen, woman," Estinien growled. "Get your feet walking towards Falcon's Nest before I force you to."

Aymeric watched as Aria's eyes became slitted as she glared at him. She scowled and clicked her tongue in his direction before she strapped her lance against her back. With this, she turned in the direction of the hamlet and when she stumbled, Aymeric rushed in to support her. At first, Aria had eyed him bitterly before she sighed and softened her gaze.

"My thanks, lord commander," she mumbled to him.

Aymeric smiled at her acknowledgement. "Just 'Aymeric,' my lady."

Aria blinked and her grin became lopsided. "In that case, 'Aria' is much preferred."

"In that case, pleasure to come to your aid, Aria," Aymeric answered.

  
As the pair slowly returned back to Falcon's Nest, Estinien followed in tow, shaking his head with a soft curse escaping his lips.


	8. Residual Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The body of an answer found in the fragment of a dream;  
> A song from a chorus sung long ago, begging for solace within despair;  
> A group of souls whose fate is inextricably bound together;  
> And a quiet plea from a voice that asks for nothing.

_The sound of birds filled the area around Aria. The sun shone brightly as its rays peeked in between the leaves of trees above, basking her in warmth while she laid on the cool, emerald earth. The air was clear, pure and offered a reprieve from the troubles the world had to offer._

_As she laid where she was, a placid smile stretched upon her lips, she heard humming beside her. Above her. Surrounding her in a small, protective bubble in a way that she never knew notes could. When her eyes fluttered open, she peered through her lashes to find a person. Their face was blurred, darkened by the shade it provided as they blocked the light from her gaze. Yet, somehow, she knew they were smiling down at her as they sang._

> Shining is the Land's light of justice  
> Ever flows the Land's well of purpose  
> Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe  
> The Land is alive, so believe

_"Why do you sing such a sad song?" Aria heard herself ask the person._

_Aria knew that the person's smile had softened as they ran fingers through her hair. It was at this point that she realized that her head was resting on their lap, their fingers gentle against her scalp. It was enough that she almost released a contented purr of satisfaction similar to the Miqo'tes she would see strolling about the town._

_"Because, dear Ia, it reminds us of our purpose," the person answered. "We have a duty to fulfill that we must uphold one day. Each and every one of us."_

_"All of us?" Aria asked._

_They nodded. "All of us. But you ... you are special, Ia. You hold the greatest honor of them all."_

_"I do...?" Aria responded._

_"Indeed," the person mused. "But, with that honor, you will also face the greatest burden. I hope that, by then, you would have found the ones that will be able to support you through the pain..._

_Because you are..."_

* * *

Aria groaned as she felt herself returning to reality. Her lashes fluttered as her sight adjusted itself away from the haze and a soft ache emerged that wrapped around her entire body. She bore no instinctive desire to take flight, so she allowed herself to relax where she was - between soft sheets, plush cushions and a comforting mattress.

Then, Aria felt shifting at her side.

She turned and found a sleeping Haurchefant beside her with dark circles under his eyes and his hair ruffled to the point it seemed he hadn't cared for it in days. Upon further inspection, he had a hand stretched out to hold hers in his.

"My lord...?" she managed to mutter out, her voice croaking from disuse.

Haurchefant stirred in his sleep, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his free hand. He straightened himself to sit upwards and when he realized that Aria was awake, offered her a soft, relieved smile. He didn't say a word at first, opting to rub his thumb against the back of hers where he held it.

"I am glad, dear Aria," he greeted her eventually. "You are finally awake."

Aria stared at him blankly, somehow reminded of the warmth of the dream that she had. Yet, it couldn't be possible that it was her lord. They would have said something otherwise...

> _Would that you only knew. Would that you weren't so afraid._

"How long have I...?" Aria managed to ask.

"Half a sennight," Haurchefant answered. "You had lost consciousness on the way back to Falcon's Nest. Ser Estinien and Ser Aymeric had you escorted back to Ishgard for proper treatment. You are currently in the medical ward at the Congregation - as the lord commander's _personal_ charge, no less."

Aria managed another groan of protest as she forced herself to sit up. While the lord cried out against it, in the end he was helping her in her desire to prop herself up with the support of her feathered pillows. With every movement, she hissed in the burning licks of agony on her back from where she was clawed, but released nothing more. To stifle the cries, her breaths had become deeper, heavier and trying.

The moment she managed to relax, the door swung open and in came Aymeric and Estinien, none worse for wear. Aria pursed her lips, but forced a small smile in greeting as her brother-in-arms glared at her with all that he could, seeing as he had removed his helm.

“What are you doing up?” he demanded with bare restraint to clamor.

Aria frowned. “What are you doing _here?_ ”

“You do not get to answer my question with one of yours, Aria,” Estinien retorted, his jaw clenching.

Aria snorted. “And I do not receive a ‘how do you feel’? Heartless bastard as usual, it would seem.”

The lord commander saw the sparks jolting between the two dragoons and he was quick to step in between Aria’s line of sight of him. Her eyes weren’t as sharp towards Aymeric as it was to Estinien, but she still glowered in him with a deeply unamused expression.

“Now, now, he is merely concerned for your well-being,” Aymeric explained in an attempt to soothe. “When you had collapsed and remained asleep for three nights, there was cause for worry that you had been hiding injuries.”

“What were you even doing in Falcon’s Nest?” Estinien interrupted. “Are you not usually stationed at Dragonhead?”

Aria frowned. “Heustienne pleaded for my assistance for reconnaissance. When I caught word that Lord Artoirel was also to be present, Lord Edmont had asked I assist him, as well. With Lord Haurchefant’s permission, I set off.”

Aymeric crossed his arms over his chest in thought.

“May I ask what had occurred that led to your engagement with the main host?” he asked.

Aria shifted her attention towards the lord commander, scanning his gaze for mere moments before she slowly turned her head away. Her eyes weren’t directed to anything in particular, but from the way she appeared, it was as if she was lost staring at the stone wall opposite to her. Rather than being disoriented, the woman appeared to be within herself in introspection.

“There was a song,” Aria answered. “A song that led me all the way north to Twinpools … and further yet. Beckoning me to the Forelands … somewhere deep and _sacred._ ”

Aymeric frowned and glanced towards Estinien, who was giving him an urgent and alarmed expression, before eyeing Aria once more.

“This song...I would presume that it is _dragonsong_ to which you speak,” Aymeric clarified.

It took her a breath, but Aria eventually nodded in agreement. Far from her knowledge, she had paled ever so slightly and Haurchefant hovered closer to her in fear that she was in pain. When she hadn’t reacted, Estinien took turn to speak up.

“What was the song about?” he asked. “Do you know what wyrm it was?”

Aria shook her head. “There were two … at first, it was one of such harrowing sorrow that I was almost consumed in desire to rush to its source to comfort … then, another took over. A song filled with overwhelming hatred and animosity the closer I approached.”

Aria turned her head and met with Estinien’s gaze. The dragoons held a silent conversation, one to which only the two of them were privy to.

It was a quiet understanding, one that came from the knowledge and acceptance that their fates were entwined as a result of being chosen by the Eye. An awareness that they only had each other when it came to knowing the burden they bear, the struggle to grow and all the pressure that comes along with it. Despite the harshness to which they spoke with each other, they were rather close. Trusted their backs to each other. Believed in their decisions on the battlefield. In fact, when they would be away from the common eye, they treated each other as siblings would.

Eventually, it was Estinien that was the first to look away and Aria sighed, knowing exactly why he was hesitating.

“I know that he is important to you,” she chided. “Which is why I do not see the point in hiding the fact of the matter from him any longer.”

“What are you talking about?” Aymeric asked, only appearing more confused than he already was during the silence.

Estinien made a low growl deep in the back of his throat, a sound that had Haurchefant and Aymeric concerned, but only managed another helpless sigh from the small woman. With a shake of her head, she turned her gaze towards the window and peered out towards the sky above. Somewhere, in the furthest corner of her mind, she heard the Azure Dragoon's voice explaining his shared role with her. Somewhere, in the darkness that crept up within herself, she heard Aymeric's voice grow tense with alarm whilst her lord's became low with warning. 

Yet, neither of them was as loud as the ringing continuously growing, a pulsating in her mind and heart that reverberated through her veins. A ticking time bomb that threatened to burst, the sight in front of her becoming blurred like water painting, coming closer and closer and _closer_ -

"Aria?" Haurchefant called out to her.

Aria blinked and the sudden snap of her focus caused the sensation to disappear, anchoring her back to reality with thick tethers. When she glanced towards the three figures that accompanied her in the room, they all had varying degrees of concern that made her frown. She wasn't used to the attention and would rather wish for anything else.

"...Yes, my lord?" she answered, ignoring the fact her voice became fragile and broke for a split second.

Haurchefant inclined his head. "You were saying something."

Aria blinked again. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know not what you just said?" Estinien spoke up then, his eyes growing dark.

Aria stared at her brother-in-arms for a short moment before she glanced down to her lap, watching the way she was unconsciously rubbing her thumb against the back of her hand. Her fingers intertwined with one another as she became acutely aware of her breathing, of the breathing of everyone in the room and the fact that everything was just _too damn bright_.

"I...am afraid not, Est," Aria answered with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

Before anyone could say a word, Haurchefant stepped up and pressed a hand gently on the woman's shoulder. She peered up towards him, catching his cyan colored eyes between locks of disheveled silver hair. The light was present, yet its glint was altered, darkened in a matter than indicated he held deep thoughts that troubled him. She could get lost in those eyes, Aria thought for a breath before she remembered her status.

"Get some rest, dear Aria," he urged of her.

Aria frowned, parting her lips to answer. When the hand pressing down on her shoulder pushed with slightly more force, she remained silent as her lord's expression became pleading.

" _Ia_ ," he called to her then.

The sound of her intimate name - specially reserved for the lord, the count and her brother-in-arms - caused the woman to become at once submissive, allowing her body to fall back against the cushions at her back. This... _affectionate_ manner of addressing her, indicating the intensity of emotions which often accompanied bouts of annoyance and anger when she was being rather stubborn. Combined with a voice that simply _begged_ for her to listen, she was weak.

Oh, _so weak_.

Aria sighed and nodded silently, then shifted her body so she would lay on her back on the bed. When she closed her eyes, she felt a hand gently petting her head and the sound of melodious hums bouncing off the stone walls. A pair of footsteps and the sound of the door opening indicated an attempt for a silent departure and she didn't begrudge whoever it was that left. For now, the ringing subsided, the demons in her mind and heart satiated enough that they didn't leave any residual thoughts. Eventually, she was able to fall back into the lull of sleep. Slowly. _Surely_.

  
Yet, no one had the heart to tell her that, in her daze, she whispered a quiet _'help me.'_


	9. Tender Benediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Find the reasons to stay alive in the hearts of those around you;  
> And believe in me that believes, oh, so true;  
> Before it is too late.

Aymeric had never thought that he would want anything more than to see his nation rise above the standards it created for itself. To help lead the people to a brighter tomorrow filled with hope and solidarity, to live in a society where there is no discrimination based on birth and blood. He understands his fervent passions is what led individuals such as Estinien and Lucia to support him in his endeavors. 

However, upon learning the date of Aria’s discharge from the medical ward, he wished to be present to bring her back to the Fortemps manor.

There was no precedent for it. In fact, it would bring about more whispers and gossips behind both of their backs. Behind the confines of noble houses that continuously search for reasons to undermine his authority. 

Yet, it was the memory of her engagement in combat that prompted him to attempt to bridge the gap. His soulmate being a warrioress, pushing through amidst the pain and pressure to ensure the safety of the people. While it brought an ache to his chest at the thought of her being injured, there was a sense of reverent awe that accompanied the sight of her carrying on. A sense of hope, as if he was being reminded of something he had forgotten on his journey.

Aymeric finished signing the last of his documents before he heaved a heavy sigh. Pushing the parchment aside, the man opened his drawer to retrieve a small comb to fix his hair the best he could. Lucia had stepped forward and removed the sheet from where it lay in turn.

“That is all for this day, correct, Lucia?” Aymeric asked as he returned his comb back to its place.

Lucia nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yes, my lord. Ser Handeloup and I will be able to manage with what you have provided.”

“If, perchance, something goes awry-”

“I will reach you by linkpearl, my lord,” Lucia interrupted. “Worry not and allow yourself this respite, even _if_ you are caring for a patient.”

Aymeric’s cheeks flushed a dusted pink as he cleared his throat. In swift motions, the lord commander departed his offices to make his way towards the medical ward within the Congregation. Along the way, he thought of excuses he could use, casual comments he can utilize that would make his presence and desire to be in hers less … awkward.

Yet, the moment that he peered through the open door of the room, all words died in his throat.

He found Aria’s amethyst eyes peering down towards her chest, strapping the buckles on her torso to the rebel coat that she wore. The fabric itself was the same shade as ash, perhaps to aid her in hiding within the shadows while keeping warm. Even her boots reached just below her knees in anticipation of higher snowbanks. The only thing that tested his faith in Halone was the measure of skin between where the hem of her jacket was and the top of her footwear.

“Ser Aymeric?” her voice rang.

Aymeric blinked and found that she had straightened her posture and angled herself towards him. There was a chirurgeon sitting by a desk, scribbling on some parchment, perhaps the final report of her condition, before standing to hand the sheet to her.

“This is the list of the elixirs and salves you will need, my lady,” they explained. “Ensure that you follow procedure every morning and every evening for the next sennight and you will be ready for patrol.”

Aria nodded in understanding and retrieved the sheet. “Are there any special requests I would need to put in at the apothecary?”

The chirurgeon hummed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“From what I know, there are none of the sort,” he answered. “The regular potency medicines are vendored at the Jeweled Crozier. If you wish to try for a stronger brand, it will cost a bit more.”

Aria sighed helplessly and nodded her head once more. “Understood.”

As the small figure began to make her exit, the chirurgeon called out to her once more.

“Oh, one more thing, Lady Aria,” they said.

Aria peered over her shoulder towards the man. “Yes, Captain Whitecape?”

Captain Whitecape frowned with severe reproach. “I want you to promise me that you will not push yourself so hard again. It was a blessing from Halone that the injuries missed your vitals, but we are all aware that fate cannot be tempted if we so value our lives.”

Aymeric saw the way Aria’s eyes widened ever so slightly, any semblance of light that could have been found disappearing as she pondered over his words. With the way she shifted her head away as she wallowed in the thought, Captain Whitecape shook his head.

“Think of this if you find yourself mulish,” he offered. “You have yet to recover your past and learn from whence you came. How are you to discover the answers if you are bed-ridden?”

Aria shifted her head to meet the chirurgeon’s gaze and his expression softened to as a father would to his child.

“I pray that you will come to understand the fact that people care for you, dear girl,” Captain Whitecape mused. “So you must value the life you were given.”

Aria remained staring at the chirurgeon with unchanged eyes before she motioned to bow in his direction. As the woman crossed the doorframe, the chirurgeon gave Aymeric a knowing look before the lord commander turned to give chase. It led him to just outside the Congregation’s entrance with the woman stretching her arms out to the sky.

“Allow me to escort you to the Fortemps estate, Aria,” Aymeric offered, stepping close but remaining a respectable distance.

Aria hummed at the thought. “There are a few places I wish to visit before the sun sets. You are free to accompany me should you wish.”

Aymeric eyed the woman as if she grew a second head as she began walking towards the Pillars. A part of him wished to urge her to get some rest, but his other half wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to learn more. Learn the reason why she is taking this detour in the hope that it would reveal more of her character.

So, Aymeric followed at her side in stride.

The walk to the Jeweled Crozier was quiet. From the corner of his eyes, Aymeric could see the way the gossipers withdrew within themselves, as if asking each other what the lord commander was doing with this … ‘outsider’. In the manner to which they looked to her with disapproval, Aymeric assumed the kind of treatment the Hyur would receive outside the High House to which she served.

Yet, she paid them as much attention as she would thin air - none at all.

Aymeric watched as the woman’s gaze drifted to some of the clothing vendors. With the way her eyes were adjusting, she was still incorporating ‘color’ into her life just as he was. In particular, her attention would be focused on cloth the color of roses and of the ocean and pointedly ignoring any bejeweled designs.

He paid attention to the way she inspected the armorer and blacksmith’s wares with enough intensity to burn a hole through the steel. Under her breath, he heard her whisper at how certain spots in the metal were too soft, too brittle, too _fragile_ ; a lack of focus on detail that ended with her arguing with the vendor for a quarter of a bell.

Afterwards, she stopped by the carvery and when Aymeric was to offer to take her to dinner on the assumption she was famished, she had purchased a grand array of foodstuffs and rations that were known to spoil slowly, yet hearty in calories. With the way the merchant had silently prepared her requests, he assumed that she was a regular customer. From the silence, it was something not meant to be spoken aloud, so the man simply aided Aria by carrying half of her bagged purchases.

Then, the woman made a beeline for the apothecary and the moment she stepped into view, the vendor waved in her direction.

“Ah, lovely Aria!” the man exclaimed. “I am quite pleased to hear you have been released from the sickbed.”

Aymeric shifted his gaze towards the woman and found that a small smile was planted on her face. Nothing forced like the ones he had been exposed to; soft and so _natural_.

“So am I, my friend,” Aria answered, then procured the parchment Captain Whitecape had donned her. “I was told that these are the merchandise I require. Do you have them in stock?”

The vendor took the sheet from her hands and scanned its contents rather quickly.

“Aye, I have them,” he answered. “How many would you like?”

“Enough to last a sennight if taken twice a day,” Aria answered. “I have also been informed there is another manner of medicine that is stronger in potency. May you know what it may be?”

The vendor nodded but released an elongated hum as he did so.

“Indeed, I know that to which you speak. In fact, we had replenished the depleted batch after Ser Estinien had purchased the last vials. As you requested, I had added an additional amount to his purchase and sent the bill to Camp Dragonhead in your name.”

Aymeric’s eyes widened in surprise as his gaze darted towards the woman. In turn, she merely gave a sigh of relief, her expression lax at the information being given to her.

“My thanks,” she answered rather gratefully.

The vendor tutted and his voice became teasing. “‘Twould be in your interest to reveal that his anonymous sponsor is none other than you, my lady. As rough of a man that he is, even one such as myself could see that his pride is being wounded at the notion.”

Aria rolled her eyes. “Until he learns to care for himself and remain adequately stocked on his person, he has no right to talk.”

The vendor hollered at her retort as she crossed her arms in defiance in front of him. Aymeric could only soak in the new expressions he was witnessing, committing the way the lines of her face stretched and pulled to form her smiles, emphasizing the softness of her lips. He also noted the way she smiled with her eyes, the way it glimmered in her mirth compared to earlier. The sight was addicting and a sudden desire to have it painted bloomed in his heart.

“As for the stronger medicines, it will cost a pretty coin, unfortunately,” the vendor sighed. “The alchemists that often supply us had been raided and their ingredients stolen. Thus, it forced them to have to raise the price of the merchandise.”

Aria frowned. “How much?”

Aymeric watched as the vendor lifted a hand and held up three fingers. Aria groaned and pressed one of her own against her head. The lord commander inclined his head.

“I would assume you mean the price has tripled,” he said.

The vendor followed the direction of Aymeric’s voice and upon finding the most prominent figure in Ishgard standing before him, he gave a startled yelp before bowing respectfully.

“Lord Aymeric, my deepest apologies!” he exclaimed in panic.

Aymeric waved the man’s concerns off. “Pay it no mind. As for the price of the medicine.”

The vendor straightened himself and nodded. “Aye, my lord, the cost has tripled from regular price. Per unit, as well.”

Aymeric nodded. “Provide Aria with what she requires and bill it under my name.”

The vendor released a strangled gasp while Aria turned towards the lord commander, appearing incredibly affronted.

“My lord, please pay me no attention!” she pleaded. “I will just take the lesser potency medicines with _my coin_ and-”

Aymeric raised a hand to silence her. “Take this as a token of my gratitude. Were it not for your refusal to back down during the ambush, the number of severe casualties surely would have been higher. If you will not accept compensation from the Congregation, at least allow me to invest in what will return you to your post as quickly as you desire.”

At his argument, Aria loosened the tension in her muscles as she internally debated between his logic and her pride. At first, she remained at a scowl, but eventually she conceded with a sigh.

“In that case, I am eternally blessed to be in your good graces, Ser Aymeric,” she answered.

“Oh, one more thing,” Aymeric added.

The lord commander watched as the woman visibly tensed. Considering the lecture she had received from the head chirurgeon of Ishgard, she seemed to assume he was going to give her one, as well. He smiled at the thought and he saw the way Aria flinched in mild startle. _Endearing_.

  
“Please address me by my name.”


	10. All-Encompassing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The path you walk is paved with the dead.  
> Walk it with your eyes open or not at all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so long to release a new chapter! Here is an update with some DRK vibes :D

Aria was beside herself. It was one thing to feel such fluttering emotions as a side effect to finding her ‘soulmate’, but the lord commander wasn’t making it any easier to ignore. She knew that he had been looking for her before the Dravanian assault near Falcon’s Nest. While she wasn’t purposely trying to avoid him - and she wouldn’t have cared if that’s what he thought - her duties made it rather convenient to distance herself.

It wasn’t that Aria didn’t find him attractive, either. She had heard rumors of Viscount Borel being one of the finest men in Ishgard, especially with the gentlemanly personality he carries around that emanates from him like a veil. The banquet was a testament to it with the number of eyes ogling him from afar while glaring at her. Yet, there were things that she prioritized, things she needed to dedicate herself to. Love wasn't in her stars.

Now, here he was, waiting to escort her back to her master’s estate, carrying half her purchases and having just paid for her medicinal needs.

She felt her cheeks burning at the smirk that the apothecary vendor gave her as she was handed her purchases. With how frequent Ishgardian nobility is to gossip, Aria had little doubt that word of the occurrence will spread like wildfire rather quickly. Then, they will insert their own stories in a distortion of the truth, unsatisfied with missing portions of the whole story just as she was in not having memories of her past-

"Aria?" she heard him call out.

The woman blinked the haze away from her mind and glanced towards Aymeric, who was eyeing her with mild concern. She shook her head in reassurance before allow it to dip downwards ever so slightly.

"'Tis nothing," she answered. "Merely lost in thought."

"'Twould seem that is a habit of yours," Aymeric commented with a soft smile.

Aria felt her body betraying her in the way that her heart skipped a beat. She took a soft breath to steady her pulse as she shook her head once more and turned to continue moving onward. Moving in the _opposite_ direction of the Fortemps manor and towards the Brume. She saw the lord commander raise a skeptical brow at her, but followed silently nonetheless.

At this point, the skies had turned cloudy and grey, just as it did during the attack. Compared to the blizzard, there was a light snowfall, enough to make the frozen crystals appear as if they're dancing as they twirl in the air. Aria always felt a sense of longing at the sight of it, a hint of just _something_ that exists in the back of her mind, waiting for her to open the lockbox of her memories. If only she could find the key.

> _If only you had the strength over the fear._

The small figure pulled the jacket closer on her person. While there wasn't a strong gust of wind that brought a chill down her spine, she felt one nonetheless. The world around her, in spite of the color, remained dull and grey. In spite of the browns of the wooden bridge leading down to the most impoverished sector of Ishgard, in spite of the humming blue of the aethernet shard down the alley, in spite of the hints of blue and silver from idle Temple Knights guarding the city here and there.

> _So monotone. So empty. So boring._

"Hey, Aria!" a voice called out.

Aria shifted her gaze in the direction of the voice and found a small Elezen woman of similar height to herself, obsidian hair tied back to a ponytail and eyes as red as blood itself. The woman gave her a small wave, in accompaniment to her two 'guards' - for better or for worse - that passed her friendly grins. That is, until they saw who was in the woman's company.

"'ey, Aria, what 'cha goin' 'round with pretty boy over there?" the tall Elezen in dirtied cream and green-colored clothing wore.

The men that accompanied the woman seemed to tense and Aria saw the way that the lord commander's jaw clenched at the sight of it. Meanwhile, the woman reached to the carbine that was strapped to her back. As if by instinct, Aymeric had stepped forward defensively as she equipped herself only to express his surprise when the woman used the butt of her gun to hit the taller man upside his head.

"Don't you go off pickin' fights like it's your job, Eudestand," the woman chided. "Or do you not trust Aria that much? If so, you have some explainin' to do to _me_."

The man named Eudestand yelped when he was hit and motioned to rub the point of impact.

"Argh! Alright, Hilda, I get it!" Eudestand exclaimed.

With a shake of her head, Hilda strapped her carbine to her back once more and offered a friendly smile to where the Hyur woman was. In turn, Aria nodded and stepped forward.

"I am sorry for being missing for the last few days," Aria said.

The Hyur man accompanying Hilda shrugged. "Word went 'round that you got beat up fightin' back some wyrms. Least you aren't dead yet."

Aria chuckled softly to herself, which prompted Hilda to release a soft huff.

"And?" she prodded. "Mind explainin' why a blue blood other than the Fortemps boy is with you?"

Aria peered over her shoulder to glance towards Aymeric, who was eyeing Hilda and the company with contemplation. When he realized that he was being watched, he shifted his eyes towards her and offered her a curious smile.

"Ser Aymeric had brought me to the Congregation as his personal charge after the attack," Aria explained. "As such, I would not have recovered as quickly without his good graces."

Hilda released a high-pitched whistle, one the woman knew her to do when she suspected something. Or when she was going to make a teasing comment. Then, those crimson eyes darted to Aria's bags.

"And those?" the machinist asked.

Aria bounced on her heel. "Oh, yes. Rations for everyone."

Aria waved towards Aymeric and he nodded, motioning forward and placing the bags of foodstuffs he carried for her in front of Hilda's feet. The company collectively released a thrilled hum, markedly impressed with the haul that had been given to them.

"You sure went all out this time, Aria," Hilda laughed. "Those high borns practically bleedin' wealth for you."

Aria shrugged, appearing mildly bored. "Most of it comes from the hunts issued by Clan Centurio. There have been an influx of aggressive wildlife around the Central and Western Highlands in the last few weeks."

" _Hah?_ Better not be another bleedin' assault," Hilda bit out. "If it is, Brume won't be able to take it. We lost a lot of people already - they didn't spare anyone. Not even the children."

Aria's figure went rigid for but a moment at the venom in Hilda's words. She knew that the damages to the lowborns held the most residual anger and its repercussions echo against the stone walls that contain nothing but the scent of blood and death. Being the head of the Watch for the people of the Brume, Aria could only imagine how helpless Hilda must have felt.

Especially at the sight of the man that was supposed to keep _all_ Ishgardians safe.

Aria's gaze darted towards Aymeric and she found the man's lips to have stretched out to a thin line. His eyes had darkened as they were pointed towards the ground. From the way it appeared, there were hints of guilt and shame that accompanied those soft glints. Shades that Aria so desperately wanted to take away.

_Take away...?_ Aria thought.

"You know I will not allow that now that I am here, Hilda," Aria answered.

Hilda shrugged. "You're only one woman, Aria. And considerin' how bad you were hurtin' this time, there's only so much you can take."

Aria gave a soft smile. "Well ... we shall see. Would you like for some assistance in distributing the food?"

"You've done more than enough," Hilda responded as she crossed her arms over her shoulders. "Go home and get some rest. You look like death." Hilda glanced in the direction of the Forgotten Knight then grinned. "Or have Emond or Gibrillont fashion some mulled wine or mead for your pretty little head. I reckon you deserve it after the lap dog treatment you get every morn."

Aria waved her away. “‘Tis about time I return to the manor. Mayhap on the morrow. Perchance with Estinien if I manage to wrangle the bastard over during his off hours.”

As Aria began walking away, raising a hand to wave behind her, Hilda howled with laughter.

“Aye, bring the dragoon over! Watchin’ the both of you fightin’ is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!”

Aria heard Aymeric’s footsteps following behind her as they strolled from the Brume back towards the Pillars in the direction of Athenaeum Astrologicum.

“I would like to apologize for Hilda’s aggression,” Aria spoke up. “The destruction of the Brume, in particular the Firmament, has put her on edge. As the leader of the Watch, she feels as if she is in large part responsible for the people’s losses above all.”

Aria heard Aymeric hum behind her and she peeked over her shoulder. The man’s ice-blue eyes were solemn, bearing traces of shame. While she felt sorry for the man, Aria shared similar sentiments as Hilda, a small-burning flame akin to a candle bearing slight animosity for the lack of aid the highborns displayed. They were interdependent, the high- and lowborns. She didn’t understand why there was such a clear cut divide between the two, a prejudice that is born from an inherent satisfaction to conquer and an acceptance in being conquered.

“May I ask you a question, Aymeric?” Aria asked after a small breath.

The woman stopped walking and turned to face the lord commander, who had his brows raised questioningly in her direction. She inclined her head before matching his gaze with certainty, a glint that begged for something _more_ from the man with one of the highest authorities in Ishgard.

“This path that you walk...what is it that you seek?”

Aymeric blinked, appearing baffled by the question that she had given him. His brows wrinkled as he thought. When he lifted his gaze towards her, he must have seen something in her eyes that made him think twice before speaking. 

“I...only wish for the prosperity of Ishgard, my friend,” he answered her.

> _Ah. Typical dreamer._

A nagging whisper crept up from the back of Aria’s mind, the part of her that she so desperately tries to suppress and smother from the rest of the world. The side of her that she doesn’t want anyone to see, the part of her that she doesn’t want to even hear.

“ _Boldly vague_ ,” she heard herself say in the furthest corner of her mind. “ _With a sprinkle of wishful thinking._ ”

Aria stopped from where she was walking to peer over her shoulder to glance towards Aymeric once more. She saw the man flinch the moment their eyes met and the woman knew then that it was too late.

> _Why hide me? I am only projecting how you **really** feel._

“ _In that case, you should learn to expect consequences_ ,” Aria voiced along with a cold smile. “ _For that is the path that you walk, blind as it is to the suffering around you._ ”

Aria inclined her head and turned to continue walking forward. She didn’t hear any footsteps following behind her until a few breaths later, just as the gnawing cold and darkness began engulfing her being.

All-encompassing.

  
She welcomed it with open arms.


	11. Side Story: With Aetherial Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lonely warriors bound together by fate  
> Two lonely hearts, always lying in wait  
> One single goal with a story left in store  
> One single bond and neither can ask for more

The way that Estinien had first met Aria was a strange one to say the least. Yet, with the turn of events that had played out - and the subsequent outcome resulting in the relationship they have at present time - it was hardly one that he would ever forget. Neither would Alberic or Haurchefant...or anyone else that had seen their first interaction.

The sky was dark that day, marking an oncoming storm in the horizon. Not that it mattered to the Azure Dragoon, for he performs his duties no matter the situation. His loyalties were select, but true - anyone that was fortunate to be in the man’s good graces had a stout, reliable ally, unbreaking in confidence and trust.

His patience, however, was another story.

Estinien was urged to report to Camp Dragonhead in the accompaniment of his master. For the request to have come directly from one of the four High Houses, it was hardly a matter to turn a blind eye to. The silver haired lord presiding over the camp had greeted them jovially, much to the dragoon’s disdain, but it wasn’t that he _hated_ him for it. 

“Lord Haurchefant, how fares you and yours?” Alberic greeted the man, a bright smile on the Hyur man’s face.

In return, the Elezen lord’s smile was manic. If he was an insect, Estinien wouldn’t doubt for a second that he would be buzzing about all over the camp.

“Ser Alberic, Ser Estinien!” Haurchefant exclaimed. “Merry and further yet with your company! How wonderful it is to see you arrive safe and sound!”

Alberic chuckled. “Indeed, my lord. The Fury must be irate for assailing us day after day with these snowy storms.”

Haurchefant nodded. “Aye, I agree wholeheartedly. Which brings me to confide in you a problem I have come across amidst patrol.”

Alberic couldn’t help his surprised expression, wondering what in Halone’s name the lord could mean. At the same time, Estinien was unfazed; he had seen much worse from Haurchefant and it would take a lot more than the mention of trouble to change his mood.

Haurchefant inclined his head in a nod, satisfied in having captured the men’s attention, before he turned towards the side towards the doors.

“Bring her in, Yaelle,” the lord urged.

After a breath, a set of wooden doors had swung inward and two figures emerged. One was a familiar lady knight that worked directly under the presiding lord at his behest. The second was a small Hyuran woman, perhaps tall enough to reach the middle of the dragoon’s torso. She was outfitted in clothing that could easily be discerned as being a size too large for her. She struggled to move and she yet made no complaint, akin to a doll attached to strings being bent to another’s will.

The moment that her gaze met Estinien's was the moment that he could feel his entire being becoming encapsulated in a swirling abyss. It was as if he was sinking into sludge, already halfway deep without having realized and any movement that he made only served to quicken the descent. Deeper, and deeper and _deeper_ -

“Estinien?” Alberic called out.

Estinien blinked and glanced towards his master and it was only then that the man had realized just how tense he had become. With a scowl, the dragoon huffed and shook his head, forcing his stance to lax as he crossed his arms.

“And she is?” Estinien nodded towards the woman.

Haurchefant frowned helplessly. “Well … that would be the first problem. We do not know her name.”

Alberic’s expression became pensive. “Has she not spoken? How did you find her?”

The presiding lord shook his head in response.

“We found her when we were returning from a patrol. There was a storm brewing and the poor thing had collapsed near the camp with severe injuries, including having been poisoned. Even after tending to the most immediate of wounds, she still seems unable to speak.”

“And? What do you expect _us_ to do about it?” Estinien sneered, pointedly avoiding the woman’s gaze despite her stares.

“Ah, yes,” Haurchefant answered cheerily. “I was hoping for a favor, Ser Alberic, that you and Ser Estinien would take her under your wing in an attempt to prompt a reaction from her.”

Now _that_ caught Estinien’s attention.

“I am _not_ a sitter, Haurchefant,” the dragoon hissed, clearly affronted by the suggestion.

Haurchefant lifted his hands in surrender, his smile trying as he attempted to persuade the man.

“I plead with you - only until the morrow’s morrow! She is not incapable, I swear on my sword. She is proficient with the lance and has something that may be of interest-”

Before Estinien could stop himself, an inner rage boiled so thoroughly in his blood that prompted him to march forward towards the presiding lord. The man grabbed Haurchefant by the collar out of frustration and was ready to unleash hell from his mouth.

That is, he _was_.

Without warning, Estinien felt the wind knock from his stomach, the impact of _something_ colliding with his figure so forcefully that it sent him flying to the floor. When the dragoon had collected his senses amidst the shouts, he turned to find that the Hyur woman was standing above him with a dangerous expression and he swore for a brief moment that her eyes had flashed.

When Alberic heard his student growl, that was when he stepped between the two just as Haurchefant had reached out and grabbed the woman by the arm to hold her back.

“Ho there, my lady!” Haurchefant exclaimed. “Easy!”

The men heard the woman hiss in Estinien’s direction as she shifted her frame to hover in front of the lord defensively. The notion surprised even Haurchefant, who clearly hadn’t expected such a response from her to begin with.

“My apologies, Lord Haurchefant,” Alberic said as he aided Estinien to his feet.

Haurchefant shook his head. “Nay, good ser, ‘tis we that should be apologizing. And yet, I do stand by my plea for you to care for her for a while. This is the first time she has reacted to anything.”

Haurchefant’s gaze darted to Estinien - who found purchase in grumbling in the corner of the room - before resting on Alberic. They held a silent conversation, an urge and appeal against contemplation before the man inclined his head obediently.

“I make no promises, my lord,” he warned.

Haurchefant’s lips stretched to a smile. “I ask for nothing more.”

Estinien growled and the woman sneered in response.

* * *

_Fury damn her, she really **was** capable._

Estinien and Alberic watched from the side as the woman had slain an archaeornis in the Western Highlands, the location of a makeshift training ground that they had brought her to in order to assess her skill. When Haurchefant had made mention that she had something of interest, they didn't expect it to be a _soul crystal_. _Many_ soul crystals, in fact.

For the sake of their skills and what they could teach her, they urged her towards that of the dragoon. She willingly obeyed and had upheld the combative art. When they attempted to analyze the other crystals she had in her possession, along with the wonder of how she managed to come across the Soul of the Dragoon to begin with, she became completely feral and refused to allow the two to even touch them. No further attempt had been made since.

Yet, if there was anything that Alberic and Estinien had learned in bearing witness to the woman's talents, she wasn't wanting for skill. Estinien was even loathe to admit that she was on the same level as he. While he absolutely _despised_ the thought of someone matching his abilities, he didn't begrudge the thought of how useful it would be if she were to be of service to Ishgard. As horrible the thought may be.

"Where did you learn to fight?" Alberic tried asking her.

The woman merely stared at the man with a blank expression, as if she was seeing past him and he was thin air. It caused the man to sigh and shake his head before turning to Estinien.

"Estinien, do you have anything you would like to try?"

As Estinien was about to make a snarky remark, they saw the woman suddenly stand at attention before she turned and got to battle position. Alberic was slower in the uptake, but Estinien following the woman's posture urged him to do the same.

Then, a roar.

From behind the frozen cliffs, a giant wyrm had flown in, circling the air above them before swooping in for a dive. It was an easy manner for the three to vault out of harm’s way, but Alberic was the more alarmed one between all of them.

“The _Lord of the Wyverns_?! He was never known to even leave the Forelands!”

Estinien grunted and entered the fray by jumping high into the air, at an equal elevation to the wyrm itself at its blindspot, and proceeding with a _Spineshatter Dive_ onto its back. The dragoon pierced into the creature’s back with Gae Bolg in a _Disembowel_ and continued assaulting it with a _Fang and Claw_ and _Wheeling Thrust_ before _Elusive Jumping_ off of it. He found himself having landed near the woman, his eyes darting to her figure for a split second.

“Stand back,” he ordered as he dove in once more.

“Estinien, wait!” Alberic called out too late. When he realized that his student went on ahead, he released a frustrated sigh and turned to the woman. “Come, let us-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman’s eyes widened as she vaulted towards him, her trishula gripped tight with its tip pointed towards him. He wanted to shout in question, in a slight panic of her motives, before he heard a screech ring from behind him after the sound of impact, and saw the body of a smaller aevis having collapsed to the ground.

“My...thanks…” the man offered.

Another howl caused the Hyurs to turn in Estinien’s direction before they bore witness to a fatal flaw, a single mistake that was unlike him to make.

An ambush.

While in midair, Estinien had become too distracted by the Lord, the blood pumping loud in his ears. In his single-minded desire to slay the creature and obtain power to slay his greatest foe, a dark voice rang in his ears that caused him to falter. An ominous voice that fought for control of his body, engulfing him in corrupted aether that donned nothing but hatred and spite.

> _Fall into rage. Bathe in full fury. And become MY vessel!_

Before he knew it, another wyvern had flown in and swiped at the dragoon, knocking him off trajectory enough that the Lord of the Wyverns swooped in and crashed into the dragoon with full force, shooting him to the frozen ground. When he landed, he couldn’t help but choke out blood as stinging pain reverberated throughout his body, echoing wave after wave while concentrated in his abdomen. He knew then that the wyrm had pierced through his armor deep into his flesh. He knew.

But Falcon’s Nest wasn’t that far off.

Alberic was close by.

And the woman he promised to protect.

The woman…

Through the haze, Estinien vaguely saw her small figure jump in his direction and sent a _Full Thrust_ towards the Lord. Even though the wyrm had flown up to dodge, it served its purpose of creating distance enough for her to rush towards Estinien and kneel protectively over him. The man coughed out blood, struggling to breathe air as he shifted towards her.

“Get out of here…”

The woman jolted and turned to the dragoon. The moment her gaze locked to his, her eyes had widened and she shook ever so slightly. Then, it darted around him - the ground, his armor, his lance. Her jaw had slacked and Estinien knew that _something_ in her mind was shifting, reacting to the scene.

Her lips parted.

“Blood…” she whispered, soft and like a chime.

It was Estinien’s turn to feel surprise, melding quickly to concern as he felt heat against his side, a pulsating of aether quickly condensing and growing. Expanding.

_The Eye…!_

A faint light shot from where the dragoon kept the relic in his possession towards the woman, enveloping her in a faint glow. When it was done, there was a weak cry that grew; grew until it was a loud vengeful roar that he heard within his mind. The aether that had surrounded him connected with hers and Estinien was sure that the woman didn’t realize the way she was wielding it, like draconic wings covering and protecting him.

“By the Fury, her inner dragon has stirred,” Alberic’s voice reached him.

Estinien shifted his head and saw that his master had rushed towards him in an attempt to begin applying first aid on his person. He barely comprehended what was going on amidst the agony, but she had reached him loud and clear when she released her _Battle Litany_ : 

> _I will protect you_.

A line of lesser wyverns dove in to break the defense, in which the woman took the opportunity to counter. _Geirskogul_.

The beasts fell and she vaulted to the air to reach the Lord’s elevation. She and the Lord danced in the air as the woman baited the wyrm in closer to her. Using her trishula, she stabbed her weapon into the creature’s back to grab a hold of it. Using the Lord as a platform, she jumped once more. _Stardiver._

They both were falling, tumbling, plummeting down towards the earth with an unceremonious crash, raising dust and debris into the air. Alberic bent over Estinien in an attempt to use himself as a shield to cover his student for the wyrm’s cries were still echoing from the landing point. Yet, Estinien could see the aether flowing and weaving from where the woman was through the cloud. _Nastrond._

One vault to dodge and another to close the distance. When the Lord was to swipe her away to the side, she spun and _Elusive Jumped_ onto the nape of the wyrm’s neck, raising her weapon high into the air before delivering one last blow. _Raiden Thrust._

With a screech, the Lord was laid low and its minions scattered in retreat.

However, the woman wasn’t concerned with any of that. As soon as the deed was done, she climbed off the Lord’s corpse and sprinted towards Estinien. Upon reaching him, the dragoon saw that her eyes were different, that what had bothered him before no longer existed. Though he couldn’t tell the color, he saw a light in her gaze - a gaze filled with heartfelt emotion and overall life.

He smiled ever so slightly. “You did well … to fix my mistake.”

The woman’s eyes widened and she fumbled to reach for one of his hands as Alberic was tending to his immediate injuries. The pain was numbing and shadows began dotting his sight, the energy he had spent staying awake dissipating quickly. Until he could no longer.

Before he succumbed to slumber, he heard a melodious voice scream his name.

* * *

When Estinien had awakened, it was the beginnings of dusk. The darkness of the room was enough to warrant candlelight and the man could vaguely make out shapes marking furniture - wooden chairs, a side table and a small sleeping figure hunched over on the bed.

Estinien groaned and shifted himself to sit up, careful not to awaken the woman that saved his and Alberic’s life. From the way she appeared, she had changed into clothing much suited to her frame and bandages around her arms were visible even as she rested her head on them like a makeshift pillow.

“Such a tiny thing took it down…” he muttered to himself.

“Indeed, and she has had nary a wink of slumber since you were brought here.”

The voice startled Estinien enough for him to jolt slightly and he shifted his gaze towards the door in time to find a particular Lord Haurchefant carrying a blanket while leaning against its frame. His arms were crossed with a playful smirk on his face before he allowed himself to straighten and step closer to the both of them.

“How do you feel?” Haurchefant asked, draping the cloth over the woman’s shoulders.

Estinien snorted. “Like shite. Where…and how long?”

“Falcon’s Nest. Two days,” the lord answered with a small chuckle. “Aria refused to leave your side, even as the chirurgeon tended to you.”

Estinien raised a brow. “‘ _Aria_ ’?”

Haurchefant smiled and inclined his head towards the woman and it then clicked. _Her name_.

“I am curious to ask what unfortunate circumstances you must have gone through to unlock her voice and this single memory, but for now, please continue to rest.”

Haurchefant leaned down to collect Aria, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and under her legs so that he would be able to lift her as a groom would a wife. The woman stirred ever so slightly, enough to get her to almost nuzzle against the man’s chest to chase after his warmth. Estinien saw him give the woman a fond smile before glancing towards him once more.

“I will leave the decision of her identity as another chosen of the Eye to you and Ser Alberic,” Haurchefant stated. “I will bring her to her bedchambers to rest. You have another visitor, as well.”

Before Estinien could ask who it was, Haurchefant had already begun carrying Aria out of the room. In a brief moment, voices were coming closer from the opposite direction the lord turned and before he knew it, Alberic had come into sight from around the corner.

“Ah, Estinien, you are awake. The lord commander has come to greet you.”

Estinien groaned, pressing his palm to his face at his words. He couldn’t even object since said lord commander - draped in ornate armor with metal detailing and a long cape that reached his ankles - came into view. His comrade and friend, Aymeric de Borel.

“I heard from Ser Alberic you had managed to come across trouble, but amidst the chaos you alone had managed to stave a scouting horde away from the hamlet in the Western Highlands.”

Estinien raised a brow at the statement, but the way his master shifted behind Aymeric caught his attention. The Hyur man’s eyes were dark, the space between his brows knit as his figure stiffened. There was a slight incline of his head, a hidden tell with a hidden message. One that the dragoon has learned to differentiate and use as a silent command.

So, he sighed.

“Aye, and what of it, Aymeric?”

Aymeric frowned with obvious reproach, crossing his arms over his chest.

“By mine role, I am duty bound to offer thanks for your service, but as your _friend_ , I am here to reprimand you. You were foolish to engage them alone.”

Estinien exaggerated a shrug and leaned back against his bed. He prepared himself to tune out Aymeric’s lecture to his lie when he felt a brush of aether against his frame, warm and tender even against his wounds. The dragoon blinked and peered up to his company, only to realize that neither of them reacted.

Which meant there was only one answer.

So, Estinien concentrated and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He looked inward to gather what he needed and focused outward, reaching, searching. Until he had found what he was looking for, like a ribbon amidst the strings.

> _I am fine. Get some rest. We will talk later._

The ribbon in his mind seemed to shiver in excitement and he felt another wave of aether caress his skin. When he unconsciously allowed a smile to stretch his face, he was not at all repentant or regretful at the lecture Aymeric gave him after. Alberic, however, looked to him skeptically, but kept quiet, for he was rather thankful for this sudden fated encounter.

Estinien had finally found a beacon amidst the rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! My injuries have recovered and I am at 90%! I hope to get more chapters of the main story out, along with more side stories related to the main story like this, soon. Feedback is optional, but very much appreciated! :)


	12. Little Bird, Little Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things we look for are oft in places we don't think to search.  
> Sometimes such things cannot be found and only awaited.  
> And if you wait just a little while longer  
> You will find that the results are much more satisfying than you had initially expected.

The sound of laughter echoed throughout every corner of Ishgard. Excited murmurs and feverish screams of expectation filled any and all individuals - for who _wouldn’t_ find joy spread throughout the people amidst the Starlight Celebrations?

An exception to the rule, Aymeric was sitting in his office with Lucia standing nearby. It was no surprise that he would be working; after all, celebrations of such a level involve a need of security and being the lord commander of the Temple Knights warranted he monitor such things. 

Or, at least, that’s what he thought.

The doors to his offices opened with a crash and Aymeric lifted his head in time to find Estinien marching towards his desk in leisure clothes - a blue tunic and dirty green slops. The man didn’t have his lance strapped to his back, as was his wont, which confused the lord commander further as to the reason for what he was doing there to begin with.

“My friend, is aught amiss?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

Estinien huffed and shifted his head towards Lucia, who merely nodded in return. Taking it as a sign, Estinien shifted his head back towards Aymeric.

“Work is finished,” he answered.

Aymeric blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“My lord, a break every now and then is proven to increase efficiency,” Lucia explained with a soft smile. “It is Starlight. You should enjoy yourself.”

Before he knew it, Aymeric’s arm had been taken in his friend’s hold and he was being dragged off his seat.

“What of you, Lu-”

“I will be returning home for a spell, my lord, after finishing some paperwork,” she answered.

“Bah, forget about work, you need to relax,” Estinien growled in a chide. He paused for a brief moment - stopping in his steps - and turned to glance up and down Aymeric’s figure. The sight of it made him frown. “But first, your clothes.”

The dragoon continued to pull Aymeric along until they were at the barracks of the Congregation, tossing the man in and closing the door behind him unceremoniously. Aymeric, unsure of what was going on, attempted to pry the door open only to find that his friend was holding it closed on the other end.

“Estinien…!” he called out helplessly.

“Would not do to be so formal in the middle of festivities,” Estinien answered on the other side. “Hurry up already.”

Aymeric sighed as he did so, stepping towards the corner where he knew his belongings would be - in a crate locked and marked specifically for him. While he was no longer a simple Temple Knight, he still makes a habit of storing his personal items with all the others. If only to delude himself into thinking he had some semblance of normalcy. 

“I would not imagine you the type to enjoy crowds, Estinien,” Aymeric commented as he retrieved a set of casual clothing from said crate after opening it. “Is there something going on?”

Estinien huffed. “Lucia asked for a favor and I was happy to oblige.”

Aymeric snorted. “Surely, it would not be something simple as that.”

“Aye, it would not be.”

Aymeric’s lips curled to a playful smirk as he pulled the sapphire tunic over his head and straightened the fabric down. He glanced towards the mirror, staring at his reflection as he did so and found the attire suited him quite well. Something of a cross between a high- and lowborn, perhaps making him appear a merchant. Or an Adventurer.

The lord knocked on the door, prompting Estinien to slide it open a moment later. The dragoon gave him another scan before he nodded in satisfaction and waved towards him, marking him to follow. Grateful that he was no longer being dragged across the Congregation, Aymeric followed at the man’s side.

“Pray tell exactly where we are going,” Aymeric urged.

Estinien grinned as he made a quick turn towards the Forgotten Knight and Aymeric then had a semblance of what was going to expect. That is, his friend held his alcohol well at the expense of his wallet and it was going to be up to him to make sure that he doesn’t run his finances dry.

A familiar voice called out to them the moment they stepped inside the establishment.

“Estinien, over here!”

Aymeric glanced towards the sound of the voice and found Haurchefant waiting among one of the tables in the corner, tankards of ale sprawled throughout the wooden surface. The sight of the lord commander prompted his smile to widen even further the closer they approached.

“Ah, you even brought Ser Aymeric!” Haurchefant exclaimed, his cheeks already a dusted pink.

Estinien growled as he took his seat, grabbing one of the tankards to take a swig.

“Already down under, Haurchefant? Were we that late?”

“Nay, good ser! I was merely getting a head start!”

“My thanks for the drink, Lord Haurchefant,” Aymeric pitched in with a laugh.

Haurchefant shouted something incomprehensible before tutting at the lord.

“‘Haurchefant’ is fine, ser!”

“Aye, aye, let us not begin by destroying mine ears, shall we?” Estinien grunted, waving towards the barmaid for another round.

The woman came and dropped off more tankards for them and the three reached out to toast before downing the ale as if their lives depended on it. They exchanged words and laughter, like the world outside their small bubble didn’t matter. 

_How long has it been like this?_ Aymeric thought. _Where we could eat and drink as if we were just knights-in-training?_

A small warmth filled the lord commander as he understood the purpose to Estinien’s pushiness - to pretend to be the common man, to not worry about status and only on the moment. To enjoy the festivity as one among the crowd during a celebration.

How long has it been?

Aymeric’s musings were interrupted by the way the crowd fell to a hush. The silence was almost eerie and he was about to question whether there was trouble within their midst had it not been for Haurchefant’s excited clamor.

“Ah, ‘tis about to begin!”

Aymeric raised a brow at him but faced forward, watching as the crowd made space at the furthest end of the hall. He saw Gibrillont nod towards another man across the floor, who shifted his head down the staircase and gave a thumbs up. At the sight of it, Gibrillont waved towards a group of individuals carrying instruments and took the stage to the side.

_One, two, three, four._

The sound of a guitar echoed throughout the four walls, starting out at a slow vibrato, creating a mounting anticipation. The claps of a drummer, letting the sound arrive in three pairs before he forged a steady beat.

Then, a small figure had walked up the steps, her arms raised and bent before her face as she held chakrams delicately within her fingers. Her outfit, a scandalous red Thavnairian bustier, golden thread tights that entwined up her porcelain legs with sandals that matched in design. The sight of it caused men to whistle, women to cheer but none were unused to it with the way they clapped in expectation of the show.

Then, the rhythm sped with the entrance of the flute.

With a spin, the woman threw her hands to the side, allowing for Aymeric to catch a clear glimpse of the dancer in question. It was Aria, with her lips dyed in a similar pink as the flush of her cheeks, her eyes dusted in a shadowed brown and a smile that brightened the entire room with every twirl of her body and kick of her feet.

For a brief moment, he even swore that he saw her notice her and sway her hips in his direction.

“ _By the Fury…_ ” Aymeric gasped, rubbing his lower jaw as he felt it going slack.

Estinien laughed. “Surprising, is it not? That the little bird of a woman hides such tricks up her sleeves. Apparently, she performs every now and then whenever something big is going on. Says Gibrillont pays her triple since it brings customers in.”

At the sight of Aymeric’s flushed cheeks, Haurchefant smiled sympathetically and offered the man another tankard. As he watched the lord commander quickly chug the ale, he allowed himself to lean forward in his seat, resting his head on his hands that were propped up on the table. If anyone where to look at him properly, it was easy to tell that he was just as mesmerized as Aymeric was.

“The dance is from a land known as ‘Radz-At-Han’, an island beyond the Jade Sea that is currently in a treaty of ‘non-interference’ with Garlemald.”

“You assume she is of Garlean origin?” Estinien asked, pouring a shot of whiskey for himself.

Haurchefant shook his head. “Nay. She is Eorzean, that much is certain.”

“What brings you such confidence?” Aymeric asked as he idly thumbed the handle of his tankard when he placed it down.

“Think about it,” the Fortemps son answered. “A woman with as much talents as she, capable of the arcane, being allowed freedom to wander throughout Ishgard - throughout all of Coerthas - and no legatus has attempted an invasion to retrieve her? Not to mention the Garleans are notorious for their inability to use magick in the first place.”

Aymeric raised a brow. “She...can perform magick?”

Estinien hummed. “Aye. Do you remember the scouting horde that invaded the Western Highlands a few moons past?”

“Indeed, I remember the lecture I had given whilst you were on your sickbed,” Aymeric answered with a pleasant smile.

Estinien rolled his eyes. “Well, ‘twas not I that fought off the horde. It was _her._ ”

Aymeric’s eyes widened for a spell and he turned to continue watching Aria in the middle of her dance. He was in time to see the woman toss her chakrams into the air, spin, and catch them as they fell back down, the silken fabric of her clothing following every one of her movements. 

“She was also the one that had healed me in turn,” Estinien continued, taking the shot as soon as he finished speaking.

“The Soul of the White Mage,” Haurchefant explained. “According to the research I asked of mine knights, the ones in charge of such things live within the forests. In a nation known as ‘Gridania’ within the Eorzean Alliance. If anything, she would originate from _there._ ”

Haurchefant brought his drink to his lips and tipped his head back to gulp down the contents. Meanwhile, Aymeric’s attention had focused solely on the Hyur that took center stage and that’s when he noticed it - noticed all the little aberrations on her skin marking scars left behind by blades and fire.

Of pain and sorrow.

It only made Aymeric want to learn more. To learn where and why she had acquired such paintings on the canvas that was her skin. To be taught the skills of battle that she had accumulated from only-Halone-knows-where. To study her habits and the things she adores so that he would be able to contribute in bringing a smile to her face.

Oh, how he wanted. More and more. And if that were to be the only things she allowed of him, then so be it. Perhaps it is the only way. Perhaps it is the first step of many.

_Perhaps…_

“Aymeric?” a voice called out.

The lord commander blinked and startled to find that Aria was bent at the waist in front of him, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from his face. The worried expression that she had dissipated as a small smile made way across her lips. He heard her breathe a sigh of relief and his heart found purchase in skipping a beat just as he prayed that he wasn’t addled overmuch from the alcohol.

“Splendid performance, dear Aria!” Haurchefant exclaimed as he offered her a seat between himself and the lord commander.

Aria, bless their souls, giggled as a schoolgirl would.

“My thanks, my lord,” Aria answered, reaching out for a cup of mead that was sitting idle on the table. She turned to the lord commander then. “I did not know you would be a part of the audience.”

Aymeric blinked and slowly nodded. “Yes … Estinien fetched me from the offices today without explanation …”

Aria gave the lord commander a blank stare before she turned towards Estinien and the dragoon only smirked in return. The lord watched as Aria’s cheeks flushed a light shade of her attire as she almost withdrew within herself in embarrassment. It was endearing and suited her more than a scowl.

“Indeed…” Aymeric mused quietly. “...A smile does suit you better.”

Aria held back a jump in her seat as she peeked towards Aymeric and found that he was gazing upon her with a fond smile of his own. From the confusion that Aria saw from the corner of her eyes, she figured that the others didn’t hear what he had to say. 

Not that Aymeric minded.

Feeling rather bold - whether it was from the positive reactions he had been receiving from her or the lack of restraint caused by the ale - Aymeric reached out under the table and allowed his fingers to search for her own. When it made contact with the heat of her slender fingertips, he felt the woman flinch and pull her hand away. Feeling slightly dejected, the man was of mind to bring his hand back to his lap until she reached out and placed her hand on his. With a smile, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

  
In this moment, he allowed himself to hope.


	13. One Side of Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No matter which path you choose, I will always be there.  
>  Watching and waiting. Waiting and watching.  
> So, go ahead and live a little. Dream a little.  
> I will protect you. _

When Estinien had made mention that he would force the lord commander to come to witness her dance, Aria didn’t take his word for it. Rather, she was expecting none other than her lord and her brother-in-arms to be among the crowd as she performed - a small act of thanks to those of Ishgard that have treated her kindly since she had been brought here.

It was true that, ever since the lord escorted her back to the Fortemps manor, she had been brooding. She wanted to apologize for being so forthcoming, for allowing the darkness in her heart to whisper so loudly that she said words that were unkind. 

In this, Aria couldn’t help but think of Aymeric. Think of him and his kindness, in the way that he refused to let her do things alone. While her lord was of the same way, she felt that it was different with the viscount. A calling that she can’t seem to ignore no matter how hard she tried. She was rather taken by it and the desire to want more of him, bask in the greed and make it so that he wouldn't look at anyone else...

> _So why try to ignore it? Why not embrace it for once?_

That single thought persuaded Aria to try a new approach. To offer herself as bait for the man because if she was to fall a step deeper, by seven hells she’ll take him with her.

Now, it’s landed her sitting by his side with their fingers intertwined.

Aria could tell that they had more than a ‘couple’ drinks. She could practically smell the alcohol wafting from Estinien’s direction, though it was without surprise. With the way that her lord was constantly prodding her by poking her cheek or wrapping his arms around his shoulders, he was past any form of sobriety that she could think of. She wasn’t mad, per se, because it was a time for celebrations and it wouldn’t do to be so uptight during such things.

> _You just know not how to react to_ him _._

Aria peeked up towards Aymeric and her lashes fluttered at the way the ice blue of his eyes sparkled against the dim firelight. The way that his chiseled jaw dropped as he drank from his cup and the way that his lips spread wide as he laughed at one of her lord’s jests. Surely, she didn’t miss the way his arm wrapped daringly around her waist and the subsequent wave of heat she obtained from the contact on her bare skin. If she hadn’t seen the way the notion caused bystanders of the male sex to bite their lips and turn away, dissuaded from any urge to advance on her, she would have had words.

Surely, she would…

> _Would you really?_

Aria frowned and snatched another cup of mead off to the side and drank quickly. She felt the sweet sensation bathe her tongue before the burn followed down her throat and it made her feel slightly more _alive_.

“Easy there,” Estinien called out to her.

When Aria placed her cup back down, she was greeted to the sight of a smirking dragoon and she could only pout in his direction. It wasn’t like her at all to be displaying such childish emotions, but _surely_ she could blame it on the alcohol. She had been drinking since the sun set, since before her performance and it was a wonder to even her that she was able to perform at all.

“I am not one to be scared witless from such a scowl, you know this, Ia,” Estinien teased as he took another swing of his drink. Somewhere in the corner of her mind, Aria wondered how he was not yet drunk.

Aria crossed her arms at that thought. “How can you hold your ale so well, Est?”

Estinien raised a brow and shrugged. “Practice. Is that not so, Haurchefant?”

When Haurchefant nodded enthusiastically, Aria released a groan and slammed her hands on the table before pointing towards her lord.

“Milord, you must not be accustomed to such habits!” she exclaimed. “Est’s idiocy will rub off on you!”

Estinien frowned and slammed his tankard on the table, leaning in towards the woman with a challenging expression.

“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” he growled.

As Aria was about to retort, she felt fingers threading through her hair, scratching gently on her scalp in a way that was just _absolutely divine_ and she couldn’t help the purr that escaped from the back of her throat as a result. When she realized what she had done, she released a yelp and jumped, turning to the lord commander.

“Ay-Aymeric, why are you-”

Aymeric smiled pleasantly and repeated the motion. It only caused the woman to fight back the need to echo the same sound she had released a moment’s pass just as her body began feeling like jelly. So engrossed was she to the new sensation that she hadn’t realized she had gone limp and was leaning against the lord commander.

“Cute…” Aymeric murmured just loud enough for her and only her to hear.

Aria huffed at the comment the man made and pushed herself away. Even as she crossed her arms over her chest and shifted away from him, she saw the way the man’s expression fell with a sad undertone, his arms still outstretched and empty as it remained hovering in the air. Estinien merely cackled at the sight of it while Haurchefant took the opportunity of her freedom to take her into his arms, petting her head as he would a cat.

“There, there, dear Aria, ‘tis alright,” Haurchefant cooed.

“My lord…!” Aria exclaimed, attempting to pull himself away.

“Come back,” she heard Aymeric plea.

Without any forewarning, Aria felt her figure pulled backwards before arms wrapped secure around her shoulders. She needn’t peer over her shoulder since Aymeric had buried his face against it, instead allowing the wave of heat to wash over the bare skin that was kissed with cold breezes managing its way through cracks in the wall. The notion itself should have dissuaded her enough to remind the lord commander of a little thing called ‘ _propriety_ ’ but she was so weak - oh, so weak - to him and him alone that she couldn’t find it in her to part from him.

“Bugger’s already drunk, huh?” Estinien commented between his sips. “And here I thought he would put up more of a front.”

Aria looked towards Estinien skeptically. “Aymeric is touch starved when drunk?”

The man smirked. “Among other things.”

As she allowed Aymeric to hoard her to himself, the woman saw the way her lord pouted and rested his upper frame lazily on the table.

“Why do you call them by their name, but not I?”

The question caught Aria off guard and her eyes widened. Surely, she would normally answer him the same as always: it was due to her reverent respect for him. He saved her life and sought her worthy to be allowed into his home, gave her the trust to protect his family and shows so much kindness to someone with absolutely nothing to give in turn.

Yet, this time, the words were heavy on her tongue. Somewhere within herself, she found that answer to be inappropriate, unkind and definitely not what he was seeking. Why was it that she was hesitating _now_ of all times? When was it that she had become so weak?

> _You are afraid._

Aria gasped at the whisper in her mind and bit her lower lip, the clenching of her hands to fists to follow. Indeed, she was afraid. She was afraid to bring him trouble, to bring about any form of change between them that would cause the delicate balance to tilt and topple. She was afraid of becoming selfish and destroying what she created for herself.

> _There is darkness in_ everyone’s _hearts. Nothing bad, mind you. In fact, ‘tis quite healthy._

The thought of it caused Aria’s head to incline as she willed courage into herself. She saw her brother-in-arms raise a brow in her direction while Haurchefant looked all the more curious. When she was ready enough, she turned towards him.

“Th-then … Haurche….”

Haurchefant’s eyes widened at the endearing nickname that she had donned him and with swiftness the company had only seen from him in battle, the lord stood to his feet with his arms raised to the heavens and a manic expression on his face.

“She has finally called me by name! _YES_!”

His sudden outburst caught the attention of the room and his cheer caused many others to do the same, shouting their little accomplishments like the drunkards they were. Aria pressed a hand to her face in embarrassment while Estinien heaved a sigh.

“I will bring Haurchefant to his bedchambers,” the dragoon stated. “There is also a room reserved for Aymeric on Cloud Nine. Take him.”

Aria flinched but sighed and shifted her head towards the lord commander, who still had his arms wrapped around her and had begun nuzzling his face against her shoulder.

“What say you, Aymeric?” she asked softly, reaching up to place a hand over his to catch his attention. “Let us get some rest, yes?”

Aria saw the man lift his gaze upwards to meet hers and the boyish smile that he had given her made her heart flutter.

“Only if you come with me.”

“Yes, yes, lord commander,” Aria answered.

Aria shifted herself so that Aymeric’s body leaned against her own in support and she half-carried him to the counter where Gibrillont was giving her an impish grin.

“It’s ready for use, Aria,” the innkeeper mused.

Aria glared towards the man and snatched the key that he had placed before her.

“Thank you for your business as always,” Aria heard Gibrillont called out as she turned towards Cloud Nine.

Reaching the bedchambers itself wasn’t much of an issue. In fact, she was surprised that Aymeric had been behaving himself well enough to only murmur incoherently. Even as they stumbled into the room and as he was being laid gingerly on the bed, he was tame enough to not cause any issue.

However, the moment that Aria was to depart for a short while to change her attire, she felt fingers wrap around her wrist to tug her back. She peered over her shoulder to find Aymeric eyeing her with pleading eyes and she almost would have teased him for it.

Yet, the sight of it brought a flash in her mind’s eye; a man whose face she could not make out with hair like a raven’s wings, fingers wrapped tight around her hand as he urged her to run faster, _faster_ amidst the snow and cold. A sense of fear and dread filled her entire being and some part of her dared not look backwards, refused to peek at what was chasing the both of them as it came closer and _closer_ -

“Aria..?” Aymeric called out.

Aria blinked and it was only then that she realized that tears were dripping down her cheeks. She raised her free hand to press her fingers on her skin before her expression became more somber.

“Why me…?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking the lord commander.

Aymeric stared at her for a long moment and the woman swore that he sobered up as quickly as he became intoxicated. He pulled on her arm, urging her down and she couldn’t resist the sweet beckoning as she was being laid down with her back on the bedding. 

Aymeric loomed over her, his arms holding him up on either side of her head as their faces were ilms from each other; close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breaths. They stayed like this in wonder and adoration, their gazes fixed as they admired the twinkle of each other’s eyes and the depths of the soul the other bears. It took everything in them to maintain restraint, in this delicate moment that hung all in balance before they choose one of two branching paths. They both knew this and they were both found wanting.

Then, Aymeric was first to ask as he leaned in closer.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispered.

At this, the woman was undone. She shook her head back and forth to indicate her disagreement whilst simultaneously giving her permission for him together. If that was not enough of an indication, she had lifted her arms to wrap them loosely around his neck, urging him to come closer and he released a groan when their bodies pressed against one another. Without hesitation, the lord commander pressed his lips against hers - a passionate dance that she had long been yearning for without realizing - and thus did she become engulfed in waves of dizzying bliss.

Bliss that bore the sweet taste of the ale that coated Aymeric's tongue.


	14. Prelude to Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _At long last...  
>  But why do you look at me as if I am a stranger?  
> Why do you appear as if you are afraid?  
> My savior, my muse..._
> 
> _Why are you not with **him**?_

Aymeric was no stranger to accompaniment to his bed. He’s had partners before and has had experience in both pleasing and being pleased. In a way, he was somewhat bashful to admit such a thing to himself and loathe to speak even a single word aloud. After all, it went against the gentlemanly, chivalrous perception of what a knight should be that he’s had since he was but a boy - not to mention his fervent loyalty to blessed Halone. 

However, this was the first time he felt as if he had truly broken his vows to both.

The lord commander had awakened to the sound of birds chirping melodiously outside the window. Rays of sun peeked in through the curtains, kissing his skin and mercifully avoiding his eyes as he stirred. Though, when he attempted to stretch his arms outward to remove the tension, his limbs had been nudged by another beside him.

Aymeric opened his eyes and blinked away the haze so he could peer towards the curious thing at his side. His heart almost stopped at the sight of his affections, who was curled up and pressed against his figure. If it weren’t for the fact that she was clothed in a plain tunic of his color-

> _Wait, **my** color?_

The lord blinked, rubbing his eyes just in case and, much to his dismay, found that she was indeed wearing the tunic that he had donned the previous night with nothing else save her underwear.

“ _By the Fury_ ,” he whispered.

His indignant rumblings to himself seemed to have stirred the woman awake, for Aria’s eyes had begun fluttering open as she shifted her body once she entered the sphere of consciousness. Her gaze was found wanting until it landed on Aymeric’s and she smiled with bashful delight at the sight of him.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted her in barely comprehensible slurs as she lifted her figure upwards to place a kiss on his cheek.

> _Oh, heavenly Halone-_

“Good morrow, my dear,” Aymeric responded, testing the steadiness of his voice. With the way it hovered and cracked, along with how Aria raised a brow in his direction, he gave up the pretense and simply confided his worries. “I did not… Did we partake in…?”

The Hyur blinked with confusion before she glanced down at the tunic draped over her body and the lack of cloth on the man’s torso. The puzzle pieces clicked and soon, she released peals of laughter that had her wrapping her arms around her stomach as she curled to a ball. On the other hand, Aymeric felt his cheeks burning in woeful misery and shame as he prepared himself for the worst.

“A-And here I thought the lord commander would have more tact…!” Aria exclaimed through her heaves as she remained struggling to steady herself.

Aymeric couldn’t suppress his pout. “Have pity on this wounded soul before its heart sees fit to burst.”

Aria allowed herself to snort and giggle a few more times before her breathing became controlled, steadied, in an attempt to rebalance herself. When she had finished, Aymeric’s heart almost stopped with the smile she had donned him.

“To answer your question, no, we did not,” Aria answered, snorting at the heavy sigh of relief escaping the lord commander. “However, you did not take too kindly to any form of departure of my person. I attempted to soothe your inebriated state by assuring you that I was merely going to change out of my costumes since it was cold. Instead, you stripped yourself of your tunic and helped me into it so that I would not leave and proceeded to cling on to me to ensure I would not escape.”

Aymeric’s eyes darted away. “Mine apologies.”

Aria shook her head. “Please, do not worry about it. Let us go about our morning meal. Perchance Est and my lord will be awaiting us in the main hall.”

The lord commander didn’t hesitate to agree as she sat up from the bed. Salvaging whatever measure of ‘gentlemanly’ notions he had left, he allowed her the use of the bathing room ahead of him to give him the opportunity to gather his thoughts. As he did so, his hand was pressed to his face from embarrassment; embarrassment from the way he relished her scent that was infused in the sheets, from the sight of simply being able to awaken in the morn with her at his side and his rapacious desire to seize all of her for his own pleasure. It was too much - _far too much_ \- as was the sensory overstimulation that the brightness of color assaulted him with as he opened his eyes.

When Aria emerged once more, he was delighted at the sight of her fashioning a cream-colored adventurer’s sweater with a pink scarf wrapped around her neck and thigh boots that would have made the absolute territory of her legs an outright sin had she not shown him mercy and wore breeches underneath. Unfortunately for the man, Aria knew where his eyes were trailing and she brought him back to reality by tossing the tunic that was so generously provided the evening prior at his face with a wolfish grin.

“Quickly now, _Lord Borel_ ,” Aria teased, elongating his birthright with marked sensuality.

Aymeric would have scowled if he could had he not been so mesmerized by her appearance as he pulled the clothing over his person once more. He slipped off the edge of the bed and sighed at the sight of his appearance reflected in the mirror. Normally, he would have the means to attend to the chaos that was his hair, but he remembered that Estinien had forced him out of his uniform quicker than he had the time to remember to pocket his essential carry-ons.

Sensing his troubles, Aria reached out, standing on the tips of her toes besides, to comb through and adjust his raven locks. The sensation of her nails scraping his scalp was divine and he yearned for it as quickly as her fingers pulled away when she was satisfied with the look she created for him.

“Now then, shall we?” the woman smiled and turned towards the door.

Following the woman close, Aymeric walked by Aria’s side in stride. Even as they were in the furthest room from where the main hall was located, he was still rather surprised to the sound of voices bouncing off the wooden walls considering how well he managed to sleep and how quiet it was when he opened his eyes. When he peeked towards Aria, the woman was humming pleasantly, knowingly, and the moment she realized she was being stared at, she glanced towards him and her smile was almost too innocent to remain as such. She never gave him a chance to ask - for the moment that he was going to, the woman had shifted her gaze and called out to people across the hall.

“There you are!”

Aymeric glanced in the direction her eyes were pointed and found both Estinien and Haurchefant sitting idly in the same table they were situated in before. Unlike the dragoon, the lord of Camp Dragonhead looked unusually miserable as he was resting his head against the surface of the table, hands cradling its sides as if any motion was too much for him to bear.

Estinien waved towards the two of them and Aria took it as her cue to step in their direction to join them, Aymeric not too far behind.

“Good morrow, Est, my lord,” Aria greeted them.

Estinien answered with a huff while Haurchefant turned his head to face her.

“My name, dear Aria,” he urged in a whine.

Aria blinked and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. “...Haurche.”

Haurchefant nodded slowly, grumbling as he turned his head back over and away from the light. Aymeric couldn’t help but lean in towards the lord with mild concern.

“Is aught amiss, Lord Haurchefant?” he asked.

Estinien and Aria released heavy sighs, though it was the former that answered the lord commander’s question.

“Nursing a migraine after all the booze he drank last night.”

“I am drinking water, worry not,” Haurchefant mewled. “How did you sleep, dear Aria?”

Aria inclined her head. “Well enough, thank you.”

Estinien raised a brow towards his sister-in-arms, noting the manner to which her voice suddenly opted to formality, before shifting his eyes towards Aymeric. The lord commander couldn’t suppress the blush flaring on the apple of his cheeks, but he shook his head nonetheless. Whether or not the dragoon believed him he was unable to tell - the grin the man gave was too suspicious.

It was then that a small Elezen girl of light green hair and eyes wearing a highland smock approached Aria where she sat. With the hesitant motions of the child, it was easy to tell that she was unsure of how to act in front of all that surrounded Aria and the moment that she reached arm’s length of her, she quickly stepped to the Hyur’s figure and half hid herself.

“Good morrow, Rielle,” Aria greeted the girl, patting her head gently in praise. “And happy Starlight.”

“Happy Starlight, Aria…” the girl answered softly, her gaze constantly darting towards the others. Even Haurchefant’s welcoming smile did nothing to soothe her worries. “Fray and Sid. They’re hoping to talk to you.”

Aymeric watched as Aria’s gaze drifted to a table in the corner of the Forgotten Knight that sat by the warmth of a hearth, occupied by two individuals clad in obsidian armor. One was easily discernible to be an Au Ra male, skin as white as snow and teal eyes. The other, however, had a helmet on - though his amber eyes pierced through the metal slits to meet Aria’s. Finding that both of them were already watching her expectantly, the woman released a sigh, but smiled down towards the child.

“Thank you, Rielle, I will be with you three in a moment,” she answered. As the child beamed and skipped away, Aria turned towards Aymeric and the others. “Please excuse me.”

Aymeric’s eyes didn’t leave the woman’s figure. He wasn’t at all convinced by the appearance of the two gentlemen that called on her considering his only assurance was Aria’s easy acceptance of the child’s message. He continued watching even as she took seat at the table to join them, even as she made a teasing expression to the Au Ra that made him scowl and begin answering her jest.

“Who are they?” Aymeric asked, breaking the silence. “They look exactly like-”

“Dark Knights,” Haurchefant answered with a sigh. As the dragoon and lord commander glanced towards him, the Fortemps son propped himself up on one arm as he stared at the far wall across from him. “They are exactly what they look like.”

Aymeric frowned. “The vigilantes at best and murderers at worst...but why would Aria associate herself with such individuals?”

Haurchefant inclined his head, his gaze then pointing down to the surface of the table.

“There is a reason. However…”

“However…?” Aymeric prodded.

Estinien frowned. “However, it is not something that we can explain in her place.”

Estinien gave Aymeric a meaningful look, warning him to cease further interrogations. The lord, on the other hand, was rather unwilling to let the subject go and was about to interject when everyone within the Forgotten Knight heard a bloodcurdling scream that came from the Brume. While it took a little bit for Aymeric to register the fact, Aria had already jumped from her seat, lept over the railings leading to the lower bar of the establishment and began running out.

When Estinien called out to him, it was only then that Aymeric moved. The two, along with Haurchefant, rushed through to the lower floor, barking orders for room to be made so they could do so. They found nothing until they were outside at the Brume, to which they saw Aria hovering protectively over a lowborn maiden and an unknown man against a group of Temple Knights.

“Stand aside, woman,” one of the knights demanded of her.

Aria frowned. “And allow you to murder innocents in cold blood? I think not.”

“Shut up!” Another shouted. “What do you - an _outsider_ \- have against us in authority?! Trash such as yourself should be-"

“'Should be' what now, good ser?”

Aymeric didn’t realize what he was saying until he said it; the only thing in his mind was rushing to Aria’s defense. All eyes turned in his direction and the lord commander within him appeared before all - enough to cause the Temple Knights to stiffen at the sight.

“S-Ser Aymeric, our apologies, we-“

Aymeric frowned. “I will hear your excuses _in the Congregation_. Where you all will be marching to _at this very moment_.”

“S-Ser.”

The Temple Knights saluted him and quickly turned on their heels to make for the Congregation as ordered. Aymeric sighed and when he turned towards Aria, he found the woman aiding the maiden she had protected.

The Hyuran man, however, remained staring at the ground.

“You,” Aria bit out towards him, distant and lacking any kindness that was shown since she had awakened. “State your name and your account of this incident.”

The sound of the woman’s voice seemed to break the man from his reverie. His head snapped upwards, wine red locks swaying and falling over widened eyes that were colored like night and day. He had bruises beginning to take shape across his skin from the fight, but no pain registered in him as his gaze was locked on to Aria.

“Did you not hear me?“ she asked. “I said-“

The man reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. The notion caught her off guard and Aymeric felt some heavy sensation swelling within his heart, a sentiment bordering jealousy but remained within the confines of protectiveness. It was soothed when Aria had flinched away from the man’s hold and quickly made space between them.

“I… found you,” the man said.

“I beg your pardon?” Aria snapped, swaying back and forth as if she was losing her balance.

“So this is where you were…” the man continued, then fixed his eyes right towards her. “I have been searching for so long … Lady Aria, at long last...”

Aymeric felt his heart jump and, from the corner of his eyes, he saw the shock staking its claim across both Estinien and Haurchefant’s faces. While it was expressed, it was nothing compared to the way Aria appeared.

  
To Aymeric, he bore witness to Aria’s world shattering to pieces.


	15. Forget-Me-Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Burning. There is burning everywhere._   
>  _Burning… and someone calling out my name._   
>  _Who is it?_   
>  _Who is calling out to me…?_

_“Why am I named ‘Aria’?”_

_A young boy barely aged fourteen shifted his gaze towards the small girl of seven summers. His eyes shone against the sunlight, its color as bright as the violet flower beds they had found amidst their adventures through the forests. Upon his raven hair was a floral crown of multiple colors, just as the one that was placed on the younger one’s head. The boy smiled at her kindly, sweetly, as would any doting sibling towards their family._

_“Because it means ‘song’,” the boy answered. “If you combine both your first name and our birthright, your name means ‘song of life’.”_

_The little girl tilted her head in confusion. “But why? Why am I called that?”_

_The boy allowed his gaze to remain on hers for a moment longer before he broke it in favor of staring up at the sky peeking through the leaves of emerald trees. The breeze was gentle against their skin, allowing locks of their hair to sway in tandem. It was a warm wind, a kind wind, one welcoming them in a way that made it seem as if the elementals themselves were content with their presence. At its sensation, the boy found it fit to speak once more._

_“Because there is a land where song is more powerful than anything else. It is in this place where your destiny lies.”_

_“My destiny?” the girl asked._

_The boy nodded. “Yes. Remember the song,_ your _song, and it will always protect you. No matter where you go and what you decide to do. It is your song upon the wind.”_

_The boy reached out to gently pat the girl’s head. The girl didn’t seem to fully grasp the meaning of his words, but the boy smiled nonetheless._

_When they heard rustling, the pair turned their heads and found another boy appearing from between the trees. He had hair like crimson dahlias and heterochromatic eyes - one a beautiful ruby and the other a wondrous sapphire._

_“My lady,” this second boy called out to them._

_The girl smiled excitedly and reached out to this boy, beckoning him in their direction._

_“Come join us!” she urged._

_“Come join us, my—”_

* * *

_“Aria, we need to go! **NOW**!” a young man with facial features likened to her own barked, his eyes no longer glinting as brightly as it once did in the land of verdant wildlife._

_Aria screamed from the top of her lungs. The carriage they had been riding had been set ablaze, the wooden roof of the vehicle having collapsed into itself as it was destroyed mercilessly. From where what was once a door did blood spill, dripping slowly amidst the fire._

_Bodies. There were bodies strewn across the frozen earth. The blizzard fought against the makeshift funeral pyre and while the crackling of wood could be heard, it was found wanting when compared to the battle cries and the screams of war and suffering around her. The count was adding up and the young man that called out to her knew they would join them if they didn’t move._

_Then, Aria’s eyes darted across the scene in front of her. Familiar faces engaged in combat, fighting to keep their lives and protect… protect…?_

_Then, that wine red hair came into view, one of the few veritable constants in her life that helped keep her grounded, belonging to a person that remained loyal and steadfast at her side. This person, no longer the boy that often escorted her out of the forests back home from when she would play, raised the metal claws he held in his fists as he threw punches and kicks towards his assailants._

_Aria screamed for him, wanting to rush to where he was and help him fight. She could feel the burning of the crystals within her pocket, of the lifeblood coursing through her veins. Why was everyone giving their everything at this very moment? What was so important that they found it necessary to put their lives on the line?_

_It was then that the beautiful ruby and sapphire gems found her gaze, eyes that were wild with desperation and a single plea._

_“Go, my lady!” the man exclaimed. “You must leave!”_

_“No! I do not want this!” she shouted, even as she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and pull her away. “I will fight! You cannot-! Not like the others!”_

_The man grinned and countered an oncoming attack from a lancer aiming for his vitals. In turn, blood from his now deceased opponent spilled on his cheek as he turned to her once more._

_“Live!” he screamed. “You must **live**! No matter what happens!”_

_During his preoccupation with Aria, the man didn’t realize he was being flanked. In seconds, a marauder came upon him from behind, knocking him in the head with the butt of his war axe while an arrow saw fit to pierce into his gut. The woman heard the man cry out in agony and it wasn’t long until tears began spilling from her eyes._

_“No, no, NO!”_

_When Aria tried to rush forward, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she was dragged away. Into the frozen land’s treeline and into the shadows. Through the cloudiness caused by tears, the woman didn’t notice the world around her going dark. It was akin to a candle’s flame becoming snuffed and any trace of light that existed slowly filtered out from her world._

_As if it was plunging her into an eternal darkness._

_Yet, the only thing she did through it all was scream his name._

* * *

Aria’s eyes were wide as they stared down at the man before her. The flashes she had experienced the moment that he had placed his hands on her shoulders, the familiar way to which he called to her and the sudden desire to wrap her arms around him in relief - it brought not only confusion, but an overwhelming sense of grief.

Grief accompanied by a sea of unanswered questions.

So lost was the woman in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized the man was reaching out towards her once more. Stopping him in his tracks was none other than Estinien, who had intervened by grabbing the man’s wrist before he could touch her. In turn, the man glared towards the dragoon, who only reciprocated the notion.

“Trespasser, how did you get here?” he snarled defensively. “How did you manage to pass the Gate’s guards? Do you have papers?”

The man flinched at the dragoon’s words, looking away and solidifying his shame. Estinien kissed his teeth in annoyance, shifting his eyes towards Aymeric in search of silent approval. When the lord commander nodded and Estinien was about to take him to the Congregation’s prisons by force, Aria gasped and nearly jumped at her brother-in-arms in protest.

“Ia?!” the dragoon exclaimed.

Aria didn’t miss the way the man visibly recoiled at the mention of her intimate name, as if he was aghast that Estinien had the ability and right to call her that to begin with. It was against her nature - rather, the nature that she had created for herself in her unknowing state - to allow herself to be affectionate towards anyone. After all, she didn’t know how.

Yet, a part of her within stirred, urging her to reach out and press her hand against the man’s cheek. So, she did.

The man responded with hooded eyes as he inclined his head. A hand pressed against that which she used to touch him and she allowed the motion of his thumb rubbing against her skin. This sensation was familiar, _too familiar_ , and Aria was close to falling apart.

Then, she heard the screaming.  
Then, she felt the heat of the flames.

> _“Live! You must **live**! No matter what happens!”_

She felt the ghost of fingers wrap around her wrist and the way it tugged on her limbs. She felt the dread, the pain, the despair - all overwhelming her in this single, condensed moment as the key to the lockbox deep within her soul had turned and allowed the lid to open for a brief moment so she may regain one more lost fragment to her shattered world. It filled her like water to a container and she knew then how certain she was.

Of him and what he means to her.

> _“Come join us! Come join us, my—!”_

“Echoes…” Aria finally said to break the silence.

The man lifted his head to match the woman’s gaze. Her Elezen companions watched on with stiff bodies and bated breath. She hadn’t noticed when her lord had signalled for Estinien and Aymeric to stand down, but she thanked him quietly within her mind. Somewhere within in her mind.

“My 'Echoes'...” she continued.

The man now known as Echoes released a breath Aria hadn’t known he was holding. His hold on her hand tightened and while she felt uncomfortable by the notion, an inner voice within her relished and preened in the touch.

“Finally, I have found you…” Echoes answered, tears welling in his eyes. “But, my lady, if you know my name, why is it that you still look at me as if I am but a stranger..?”

Aria flinched at his question and she was suddenly withdrawing within herself, her gaze darting away from his as if she was afraid. In the distance, she could hear Haurchefant’s voice explaining in her place.

“That is because she has amnesia.”

Echoes’ eyes widened at the statement. The shock of it was enough to keep him silent even as Haurchefant shook his head. He turned again towards Aria and froze when she nodded her head.

“I apologize,” she murmured weakly. "I do not remember much..."

  
“But now, because of you, I do remember... a little bit.”


	16. She Who Cannot Be Denied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Remember. You must remember.  
>  They are coming and you must fulfill your purpose.  
> For the gods wait for no one and will soon demand tribute.  
> Live. Live and remember.  
> Remember **us.**_

If there was anything that Aymeric had learned, he would never wish to see Aria display such a broken expression ever again. Worse yet was the fact that the woman didn’t even seem to know exactly what she was feeling. She remained despondent as they stepped towards the Congregation for privacy - and so that he would be able to quickly see to the matter of the unruly Temple Knights besides - and stayed so as she sat down in front of his desk.

Then, there was the way that this man, this ‘Echoes’, would watch her. There was no question of whether his sentiments were genuine; rather, he would have to be the realm’s most talented actor to perform a mummer's farce filled with expressions of despair without feeling it from the heart. Aria’s manner of identifying him was damning and the fact that she hadn’t outright rejected him as she did all the others was, if anything, a good sign.

Yet, she couldn’t remember much more.

“I… apologize…” the woman whispered weakly, the confidence she had in herself melting away like snow in spring.

Echoes shook her head. “Please do not worry, my lady. You had gone through quite a bit…”

As Aymeric rounded his desk to sit, he saw Estinien leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed over his chest. For a brief moment, they made eye contact and held a silent conversation.

 _How is she feeling?_ The lord commander asked with his eyes darting towards Aria.

Estinien inclined his head. _Do not push her overmuch._

The bond between the Azure Dragoons was something that Aymeric has come to admire thus far. At least he would be able to receive a definitive answer to her sentiments through his good friend if she wasn’t inclined to speak.

However, the manner to which they didn’t have solid proof that Echoes was related to the woman was still an itch in the back of everyone’s mind. Luckily for the lord commander, he needn’t be the one to bring it up.

“I apologize, Master Echoes,” Haurchefant stepped forward. “As we are unable to truly identify her origins due to the nature of her memory loss, I must implore you - do you have any means of confirming your relations to dear Aria?”

Sapphire and ruby locked on to Haurchefant’s gaze; nothing awful, only contemplative. He inclined his head ever so slightly as he reached into his pockets.

“I do, however… ‘tis quite dated,” he answered.

From his pockets did Echoes procure a colored sheet. More specifically, a photograph featuring three individuals - one seemed to be a younger Aria standing in between a younger Echoes and another boy that bore the same eyes as the woman with them albeit their different hair color. The three looked rather happy as this younger Aria was holding the boys’ hands, her expression absolutely beaming in a way that they had never seen in the Aria before them now.

As Haurchefant was about to confirm the photograph with Aria, they found the woman having shed a single tear, her eyes wide at the sight of the small sheet capturing the frozen moment of time. She was overwhelmed, that much was certain, and the glint of recognition was obvious to even one that was unfamiliar with the woman.

“This is in the forest…” Aria muttered. “...When this person and I were playing.”

Echoes nodded his head. “You made flower crowns for us.”

“...I made one for you when you came to fetch us.”

Echoes’ expression fell further. “You… do not recognize the other man beside you?”

Aria remained staring at the photo, yet the longer she seemed to stare at it, the more her expression contorted. To Aymeric, this sight was familiar to soldiers returning from the battlefield, of knights realizing that they had taken a life away with their bare hands. Taken away their 'one days.' The mask that the woman he has come to adore was one that appeared to have been set ablaze for her sins without her knowing what kind of crimes she committed.

She was lost.

She was afraid.

_In despair._

It was in bearing witness to this build up that prompted Aymeric to jump from his desk the moment that Aria stood to her feet. He rushed to her as she released screams from the top of her lungs, her figure bent at the waist as she held her head in her hands. Even when he placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her down, she shook him off and nearly fell backwards as she attempted to get away. She was incoherent, but at the same time, she didn’t outright reject him in the following attempts he made at wrapping his arms around her body.

Yet, she was shaking, her voice quivering amidst her cries for succor. The sight and sound of it was enough to startle even Estinien, as sensitive as he was to the inner cries his sister-in-arms was releasing. To make even the least emotional person Aymeric has ever known to tremble in worry - it was a feat no one has ever done. Then, he heard a small voice ringing in the back of his mind.

> _Shining is the Land's light of justice_   
>  _Ever flows the Land's well of purpose_

Aymeric felt Aria’s shaking subside almost immediately. Whilst the lord commander didn't know where the voice was coming from, it didn't stop him from lifting his head to look around the room. The only one that hadn't a clue what was going on was Haurchefant, for Estinien's eyes went dark with concern as he was also scanning the room for the source of this unknown voice. Echoes, on the other hand, remained staring at the woman intensely. Whether his expression pinched of anger or concentration remained to be seen.

> _Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe…_

Aria shifted her head in Echoes’ direction, the light of recognition glowing in her gaze as the voice continued on in song. The man's expression softened then, a soft smile stretching on his lips.

> _The Land is alive, so believe._

Echoes smiled at the woman and reached out to place a hand on the top of her head. The lord commander saw the way that her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, curious and familiar, as he did so.

“You remember your song,” Echoes said, voice filled with relief. “Bearing the wishes of-”

Before the man could finish what he was going to say, the sound of an alarum went off that shook the very foundation of the Congregation. A familiar, and yet foreboding, sound that signaled an attack at the Gates of Judgement. It wasn’t long until Lucia had burst into the room to deliver the news.

“A host of wyrms on the Steps of Faith, my lord!” she exclaimed. “And among them is Nidhogg’s champion!”

Estinien clicked his tongue. “So they have finally made their move.” He turned towards Aria once more. “Aria, we must go.”

Aria shifted her attention towards her brother-in-arms and she nodded quickly. The pair wasted no time rushing outside of the Seat of the Lord Commander to perform their duties and as Aymeric and was to do the same, Haurchefant already following after the duo, his gaze drifted to the Hyuran man - who was eyeing after Aria with fervent intensity.

“Will you allow our battle to become yours, Master Echoes?” he asked of him, earning his attentions. “For over the course of several moons, Aria has taken arms to stave off the horde that threatens our home. If you would accompany mine person as an irregular unit, you will be able to see exactly what it is she fights for.”

The man nodded his head almost immediately, taking Aymeric by surprise. In turn, Echoes offered a helpless smile.

“I have pledged an oath to be by her side,” he answered without a shadow of doubt. “Even if she forgets the world or the world forgets her, my place is within her arm's reach and at her beck and call.”

Aymeric nodded and led the way towards the Gates where groups of Temple Knights were already in wait. Estinien and Lucia stood at the forefront, Aria standing at her brother-in-arm’s side with a line of knights dragoon behind them and Haurchefant joining his family's unit.

The lord commander stepped forward to lead the charge while Echoes stepped towards Aria.

“My lady,” he called to her. “May I ask you a question?”

Aria glanced over her shoulder and found that Echoes had knelt behind her before she turned to face forward once more.

“What is it?” she asked.

Echoes inclined his head. “This nation that has taken you in, that you fight for. Is it truly a nation that you love?”

Aymeric saw the way that Aria’s eyes widened from the corner of his own. She took a brief moment to contemplate on the answer before she replied.

“Indeed, this place has its fair share of discrimination. Not only in race, but in political power and wealth. Not to mention that there are less-than-favorable individuals lurking within that constantly scheme behind curtains, betraying the trust the people misplace either through ignorance or indolence.”

As Lucia was to interject, she saw the way the woman gave a forlorn smile at the thoughts said aloud in between.

“And yet, in the midst of this tumultuous chaos, there are stars acting as beacons of hope, shepherding the lost and afraid. These people, I love. And if they wish to fight for this nation because they believe in it, then I will take up arms and make their beliefs my own.”

Echoes’ eyes widened at the words before he chuckled to himself. Aymeric knew that the woman was referencing her lord when she answered - proverbs said many a time before by the second son of House Fortemps - and yet the conviction she had in her reply was enough to draw the attention of the other knights. It served a purpose that clearly went over her head, for her declaration was more than a simple response; it was a _rally._

“Then your cause shall be my own, my lady,” Echoes answered.

“You would fight for a woman that remembers not her history?” she asked.

“I have pledged myself to you, my lady, and thus does this Echoes belong to no other.” The man lifted his head to peer up towards her, resolute. “Give me the order to fight and it shall be done.”

Aria sighed and Estinien couldn’t help but startle at the manner to which the aether about her melded against each other in layers. It was a different air that encircled her, one belonging to a woman of a noble line that wouldn’t be denied. That cannot be denied.

“Then, you will fight,” Aria commanded and though her voice sounded hesitant, the woman appeared entirely certain. “Bleed if you must, for I shall do the same. The enemy shall not take one step into our domain.”

Echoes couldn’t help his grin, as if he was relieved to hear this side of the woman. As if he was proud that this side of her still existed.

“As you wish.”

These were the last words coherently heard by all before chaos erupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [Book Club](https://discord.gg/fh4dRgC) is my home now. End of story c:


End file.
